


You Wreck Me

by phantomsunsets



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, Boarding School, Bonding, Bullying, Chronic Illness, Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fencing, First Love, Fluff, Gay, Hazing, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Rivalry, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Slow Burn, Teacher Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Teen Romance, Terminal Illnesses, Touch-Starved Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28723893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomsunsets/pseuds/phantomsunsets
Summary: "Well, Techno? What's your next move?" Tommy questions.Techno stares down at his little brother, eyes simmering and heart pounding as his fingers clench next to his sides. He pictures Dream's emerald eyes and plethora of freckles pressed above an awkward smile on the pinkest of lips. Techno can almost see the messy locks of sand sweeping across his forehead and narrowly touching his shoulders. The image of the young runner flickers perfectly in his mind now, unable to see anything but Dream and the color red."I'm going to ruin his life."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1039
Kudos: 1188





	1. It's Good To Be King

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, a TechnoDream fic! I'm so excited to work on this piece. The Dream SMP fascinates me greatly, and rather than writing a DreamNotFound fic, I've decided on my second favorite pairing, solely because there are already TONS of great DNF ones. As per usual, my story is ~rock music~ themed. I've done Queen and The Police, so now, I've decided to make a work Tom Petty (& the Heartbreakers) centered. The title, You Wreck Me, is a great song by Tom Petty, so please listen to it before you read! Each chapter will be titled with a different Petty song. Listen to them all to get in the mood! ;) Tags, warnings, characters, ratings, and notes will be updated as I go along!
> 
> (DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is in no way meant to be a 100% accurate portrayal of any of the REAL people featured. Of course, I did my best to incorporate their personalities, but it's impossible to get them perfectly since all sixteen characters exist in real life. Also, since TechnoDream is a ship involving actual people, please remember to be respectful to them and their friendship!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's good to be king, if just for a while;  
> To be there in velvet, yeah, to give 'em a smile.  
> It's good to get high and never come down;  
> It's good to be king of your own little town.
> 
> Yeah, the world would swing if I were king;  
> Can I help it if I still dream time to time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MARCH EDIT: New chapter (almost) every Sunday. <3

His stance is immaculate. He stands there, completely covered by the white suit that conforms to the dip in his waist and the bones poking out from his sturdy hips. Though nobody else can see the smirk on his red, sweaty lips from behind his fencer's mask, he's proudly barring his teeth while gliding forward. Left foot. Right foot. Firm grip on the weapon in his right hand. He licks a bead of sweat as it drips down his right cheek, flustered with a pulse of its own. His dark eyes narrow in on the target as it wearily approaches him.

How blatantly stupid.

He laughs to himself, blocking the oncoming blow with the blade of his own trusty sabre. It's no use for his prey to lash back, to try and desperately take control of _his_ game to win. He doesn't lose. He will _never_ lose. The kids around them watch intently as he momentarily takes his bloodthirsty gaze from the struggling mouse just meters from his paw. With one swift motion, he tosses the sword up into the air so that every pair of eyes, including his opponent's, focuses on his airborne weapon. He doesn't hesitate as he strikes, briskly kicking the other in his upper thigh as he watches the sabre soar. He catches the weapon from the air, foot firmly pressed against the other's chest, and stabs him right in the neck.

"Gotcha," he hisses, winking behind the sanctity of his helmet.

The crowd around them erupts in a fit of roaring and cheering as Techno finally rips off his mask to reveal his long, luscious, baby pink hair that trails down to his hips. He leans back to shake it all out, relishing in the way his peers scream even louder upon seeing _that_ hair. They just eat him up.

The director sounds his whistle. "Blade wins again! Calling it for today."

"Techno!" shouts a familiar voice, causing him to turn back toward the crowd. "Good run, huh? I think you made that other kid cry."

Techno lifts an eyebrow at his twin brother. "Well deserved. He was trying way too hard to get a hit on me. Couldn't let that happen."

"Did you hear about Dream?"

The pinkette rolls his eyes in disgust. "What about 'it'?"

"He's practicing for nationals right now. Think he'll make the team?"

"Against Kye Illumina? Fat chance. I'm still in disbelief that the goblin made it to state, let alone is eligible for nationals! Seriously, he's not even that good of a runner. Still, there's no way in hell he can outrun Lumi. In fact, I'm willing to bet on it. Care to pay him a visit with me?"

Wilbur side eyes him. "You really are the evil twin. Sure, let's stop by the track. Promise not to get physical?"

"Absolutely not! You _know_ I can't stand him," Techno seethes, gathering his waves up in one hand and loosely tying them into a high ponytail. "If he calls me 'Piggy' one more time, I'm going to snap his spine in two with my bare hands."

Both brothers look down to Techno's large hands, knuckles red from gripping his precious sabre rather tightly during battle. His fingers are long and thin, ending with perfectly painted nails in the same shade of baby pink as his gorgeous hair. They're sharp and unforgiving, and Techno rarely hesitates to use them in his own favor. He's not one to be messed with, though, there is one person at their high school that is bold enough to take him on. Techno hates him for it.

Techno looks over to Wilbur as they bask in the evening sun together, strolling off deeper through campus and away from the social environment. Neither of them are as out spoken as their younger brother, but they are both adored by many. Wilbur seems unabashedly oblivious to his fame, but Techno bathes in it like the sweet nectar of all of his victims' blood. He loves when his nickname is passed around through thin-lipped whispers, rolling off of heated tongues like the naughtiest word another human could mutter. Techno is always the center of attention in his own mind, so the world should follow in suit. He's not king for nothing.

"To be fair," Wilbur finally says, peering at him through the rounded frames of his glasses. "You chose to get your septum pierced. Blame Dad for giving you piggy nose genes. Blame yourself for the piggy ring!"

Techno bats his long eyelashes. "You're just as piggy-nosed as me, Will. My septum ring complements me to no end."

"Yes, lavish king. Are you not going to change before we shake down Dream?"

"No, that's fine. I'll shower when we get back to the boarding house because I'm rather moist right now."

Wilbur places an awkward hand over his smiling mouth. "TMI!"

The brothers laugh together as Wilbur lightly pushes Techno. They share a knowing look that they've been able to pull ever since they could form their own thoughts. The best part of growing up as a twin is most certainly the element of telepathy that comes along with living in the same womb together. It makes their father laugh, but their brother couldn't find it more terribly annoying.

"Look, Will. There he is." Techno points at the green form across the way, running alongside the setting sun. "How pathetic. I might puke."

Wilbur squints. "He's so fast, Techno. There's no way he doesn't make nationals."

"Bite your tongue, ugly! He's not as perfect as everyone thinks, Will."

"Ugly? We're twins, Techno. You just called yourself ugly."

Techno sticks his tongue out. "I would never. Maybe if you had hair like mine..."

"Seriously? As if. You've been growing your mane out since we were in diapers. If you had short hair, we'd both be curly-headed and cute as buttons. Maybe you should cut it!"

The older, by two minutes, twin gasps. "How dare you?"

"Oh, hush. What's your plan with green boy?" Wilbur asks, nudging Techno.

"Follow my lead, brother."

Techno sucks in his cheek while smirking to himself. Still clad in his white suit, helmet tucked under one arm and carrying the sabre with his opposite hand, he begins speed walking closer to the fence outlining the football field. Techno tosses his equipment over the fence and eyes his slightly taller twin for a boost. Wilbur gently winks as he kneels to let Techno step into his hands. Once on the other side, Wilbur throws his schoolbag across and begins pulling himself over. Techno grabs his hands and aids him in the climb before they both look directly at _him,_ still running along the outside of the track.

"Furry, eight 'o'clock," alerts Wilbur.

Techno nods as he spots one of their housemates, Floris, beginning to circle closer to them as he steadily runs as well. His grey hoodie is sleeveless, exposing skinny, pale arms that rapidly pump with each step he takes. The twins gather their things up and close in on him, flagging him down with their hands in the air. Techno's eyes twitch once he notices the white tipped tail of fiery orange flowing behind him.

"Hey, Floris," Techno softly speaks, unable to rip his eyes away from the set of matching fox ears on top of the Dutch boy's sweaty, shaggy hair. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Techno.. it's.. Fundy.. now.." he huffs, trying to catch his breath. "Anybody.. got.. a.. drink?"

Wilbur nods, reaching into his crossbody bag full of textbooks and pulling out his trusty yellow water bottle. "Why 'Fundy'? That's an odd nickname. Sounds nothing like Floris at all."

"I see you're the sharp Blade brother.. It's my fursona, silly! I'm Fundy the fox. If you must know, I'm practicing for tomorrow's track meet. Scouters will be there to pick out the fastest runners and talk to them about university opportunities."

"Fursona? What's that? Never mind, actually. I don't particularly want to know. Scouters, you say?" asks Techno, tapping a painted nail against his chin.

Fundy smiles. "Yeah! It's also one of the determining matches to see if either Dream or Illumina will be fit for nationals. They're both extremely nervous."

"I can imagine so!" Wilbur exclaims, side-eyeing his brother.

Techno lets his eyelids lower, cunning orbs glistening with mischief. "Well, I'll certainly tuck this information away for later use. Fundy, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Techno. What is it?"

"When Dream comes around this way, give him a hard kick right in the shin."

Fundy gasps and shakes his head. "No way! Why would I do such a thing?"

"Oh, you didn't know? He stole your tail! We watched him do it, right Will?"

Wilbur looks down at Fundy's backside and widens his eyes at the sudden disappearance of the fox tail that was _clearly_ there just moments prior. "Oh, yes! That's why we came over. Rude of him, it was. You should kick him. Hard."

The tall blonde in his lime green hoodie and shorts that barely cover half of his thigh comes speeding toward the group gathered alongside the track, sandy shags waving with each bounce. Fundy lets out a low snarl as he bunches his fists up and trots into the lane Dream is running in. Techno covers his mouth lightly to snicker as Dream slows down in front of him.

"Hi, Fundy. What's up?" questions Dream, barely a hitch to his breathy voice.

"Where's the tail?" Wilbur whispers.

Techno holds it up in the air, winks, and then stashes it back inside his fencing mask. Wilbur tries not to smile as he swats Techno's arm. The older can't stop himself from giggling now as the angry furry glares at Dream.

"You're a bastard!" Fundy shouts, swinging his foot back and giving Dream's shin a hellish kick.

Dream painfully hollers as he brings his knee up to his chest. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Techno, we need to go.."

Wilbur grabs Techno's hand and begins dragging him away, but not before the more sinister of the twins can shout, "See you at dinner, Fundy! Hope you find your tail!"

They take off running as they laugh so hard they nearly stumble over each other. Once over the fence, Techno tosses Fundy's tail into the grass and lets the wind tumble it well out of their sights. Wilbur playfully rolls his eyes as they peacefully set foot for the place they call home for their junior year of high school: Boarding House 7.

~

The piping hot water runs down Techno's pastel waves of never-ending hair and hazily sun-kissed skin. His arms have been bulking up as of late and actually taking on a shape, rather than the thin sticks he sported in early teenhood. He's lanky and built now. Techno trails a wet finger down his sprouting abs that are well on their way to covering his prominent ribcage. Techno finds himself attractive, for how could he not?

A sudden rush of bangs on the bathroom door knocks him out of his self-indulged trance before he sighs and yells, "What do you want?!"

"Techno, dinner's almost ready! You've been in there for ages!"

"Bug off, Tommy! I'll be downstairs in a minute!"

Tommy huffs rather loudly, ramming his fist into the door once again. "But, I can't hold my bladder any longer! Hurry up, or I'll pee in your bed!"

"There are three other bathrooms in this place, use another one!"

"No!" he shrieks, yanking on the handle. "Tubbo's having a bath in one, Bad's showering in another, and Ranboo's crying in the last one!"

Techno raises an eyebrow. "Why's Ranboo crying?"

"Uh, I dunno. He cries a lot. It's kind of his thing.. Are you done yet?"

Techno reluctantly turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist. Without wringing out his hair or drying himself off, Techno opens the door to give his little brother the death stare. The young blonde with curls in his messy hair practically barrels past him while screeching.

"You're a such a pest!" Techno seethes, stomping down the wood-paneled hallway and soaking the floor.

Without a second thought, Techno unhappily flees into the sanctity of his and Wilbur's shared room. Luckily, Wilbur isn't around to see him angrily dress. Techno quickly begins wiping off his limbs before turning his attention to his now cold hair that is uncomfortably sticking to his back and bare bottom. He leans over their banana leaf plant growing in the sunshine that leaks in through their window during most of the day to wring the water from his hair into. Now, though, the moon is out, and if anyone happens to be strolling through the courtyard right now, they're surely seeing Techno's moon as well.

Techno perches naked in front of the window to view the stars as he begins to brush out his beautiful mane. The waves of hair that fall against his shoulders, even when wet, bring about his ethereal glow. It's such a clear night, and if there weren't curfew rules here in Boarding House 7, he would most certainly be out enjoying the night life. If anyone's caught outside past dinner, it means big trouble. Frankly, Techno doesn't want to be the subject of another unhappy phone call to his father, Phil, especially since he teaches on campus and lives quite close.

A soft knock at the door grasps Techno's attention away from the stars.

Techno stands from his sacred space and ambles across the room. He touches his ear against the doorway to listen for any other knocks just to make sure Tommy hasn't come back to annoy him. When no other sounds follow, Techno slightly cracks open the door.

"I'm naked. What do you want?"

Someone softly giggles. "It's Karl. You're going to be late for dinner."

"Oh, Karl. Give me a second, okay?"

"Okay, I'll wait here."

Techno adjusts the bangs hanging above his eyes after pulling on a thin long-sleeved shirt and short shorts. He tucks his blouse into the bottoms, really accentuating his waist and hips. Techno ties his long locks into a messy bun so that it doesn't leak water all over the back of his shirt during dinner. Before joining Karl in the hallway, Techno picks up his trusty silver septum ring and untwists one of the balls to thread it into place. It's always the cherry on top of his Techno-cake.

"What are you doing?" asks Techno, as he steps into the hall.

Karl looks up from his place lying on the hard ground. "Waiting for you."

"On the floor?"

"On the floor."

Techno bites on his lip in slight confusion, but he chooses not to question what goes through Karl's mind. With a smile on his face, Karl dusts off his oversized, purple hoodie and shrugs. Side by side, the two friends descend the staircase to the main level of the boarding house. All together, there are eighth bedrooms in their quaint home. Twelve of them sleep in the six bedrooms upstairs in pairs of two, while the caretaker and resident cook, a lovely couple in their forties, sleep in a room on the main floor. For some unknown reason that makes Techno quake, Dream, the newest edition to the house, has his own room down there as well.

Besides the bedrooms, there are also two bathrooms upstairs. On the main floor is where the boys spend most of their time when not at school or asleep, for the common room is a wonderful hangout that can comfortably fit them all. The dining room and kitchen also border the common room where the caretaker's wife cooks the kids breakfast and dinner, as well as two more bathrooms. Techno rather enjoys this setup, though it often feels overcrowded by just one person..

"There you are! I thought you drowned," banters Wilbur, patting the seat next to him.

Techno snorts. "I don't spend _that_ much time in the shower.."

"Oh, really?" asks Alex, adjusting the blue beanie shrouding his black hair. "I literally live next to the wall on the opposite side of that damn shower. You were in there for like two hours!"

"Woah, are you boys arguing already?" asks their housemother, entering the dining room with a large, glass bowl of salad. "You haven't even started eating yet!"

Bad slinks into the seat across from Techno, stretching his arms above his Beatles haircut as he yawns and adjusts his glasses. "Sorry, Housemother. I promise we'll be good."

"Well, Darryl, I know _you_ will. Everyone sit now while I grab the entrée."

Tommy and Tubbo giggle their way in to their seats, the youngest of the students in the boarding house. In fact, they're the only freshmen that live here. Techno doesn't mind them terribly much, even if they are childish, just because Tommy is his younger brother, and Tubbo is a sweet kid. In fact, Tubbo manages to keep his rambunctious brother in check.

"Yeah, Bad," says Skeppy, sitting next to him. "You're such a good influence on us."

"Vomit! Keep your romance in check during dinner," begs George, pretending to puke into Sapnap's lap.

Sapnap laughs and joins him. "The puppy love! It burns!"

"I'm back!" announces Housemother, setting a piece of grilled chicken on everyone's plate. "Who're we missing? Has anyone seen Mark?"

Tommy nods. "Ranboo was crying in the bathroom last I saw him."

"I'll go check on him!" shouts Fundy, speeding from the table to fetch their oddest housemate.

Wilbur turns to whisper to his twin. "Looks like the furry found his tail."

Techno pretends to zip his lips as Fundy bounds back from the bathroom, pulling Ranboo along by the sleeve of his mock suit. Ranboo, a sophomore, is freakishly tall and awkward, but Fundy always tries to include him in their activities. Ranboo's hair is a split dye directly down the middle, half white and half black, but that's only one thing of the many that makes him the biggest weirdo at their school. Techno is almost convinced that boy has never made eye contact with him or anyone else.

"Let's eat! Let's eat!" shouts Fundy, audibly sniffing the food on his plate.

"Last delivery! Piping hot baked potatoes! Hmm, it looks like somebody is late to dinner," Housemother comments, looking at the misplaced chair at the lonesome end of the table, far from the other chairs. "Can Clay show up for one meal on time?"

Techno smirks, devilishly relishing in the absence of Dream. After Techno's stunt earlier, he's not surprised Dream is hiding, even though he knows it upsets Housemother when the kids are late for dinner. He feels a bit of warmth in his heart knowing that he could get under Dream's skin today. Techno would do anything to make that boy squirm.

"Screw it; I can't wait to eat! Who cares if Dream's late? He probably won't even come," says Alex, scooping a hefty amount of salad onto his plate and digging in.

The sound of footsteps alerts the boys and Housemother to the entrance of the dining room where Dream stands, glaring at the floor with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Techno snorts at the angry, defeated look on Dream's face. His green eyes are on fire, only enhancing just how prominent those freckles on the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose are. His sandy shags are clean and puffy from a recent shower, but that doesn't stop him from coming off pitiful and disgusting. It's easy for most to find Dream pretty with that upturned nose and those sharp, pink lips, but Techno has never found somebody so visually insufferable.

"Well, glad you could make it. Please, Clay, sit down," Housemother instructs.

Dream doesn't peel his eyes from the floor as he slinks further into the kitchen. The sleeves of his pink tee trail past his fingers and down his thighs, adding to his deer in headlights demeanor. His knees are bright red, and Techno has to physically hold in his laughter with a hand upon seeing the purple bump sprouting from his left shin. Fundy really got him good earlier.

"Sorry, Housemother," he mumbles.

"It's fine, Clay. Be on time for breakfast, all right? Now, what happened to your leg?"

Dream finally looks up from the floor, eyeing Fundy sorrowfully. "Fundy kicked me."

"Floris?! Why would you do that?"

Fundy whimpers. "Dream stole my tail!"

"What? Fundy, I didn't steal your tail.. Where did you get such an idea?"

Almost as if on cue, both Fundy and Dream look at smirking Techno at the same time. Techno leans forward and lowers his eyelids while gently waving his fingers at Dream. Dream indignantly rolls his eyes and slams both fists on the table, causing his neat plate of food directly to spill onto the table.

"Well, Techno told me he _saw_ you do it, and I believe Techno," Fundy elaborates.

"Of course, it was you. You're always trying to fuck with me!" Dream shouts.

Housemother gasps. "Clay! Watch your language."

"Sorry, Housemother. I'm just so tired of him always tampering with my life on purpose."

"You've got some nerve talking, Dreamy," pipes Techno, sharpening his gaze. "You're so unlikeable that it makes me physically ill. Good luck in your track meet tomorrow with a busted shin."

Dream growls as he digs his fingers into the baked potato Housemother just set in front of him and throws it directly at Techno. Techno has little time to react as the soaring potato hits him directly in the face. A shrill scream escapes from his lungs as the burning starch ripples across fresh skin, causing bubbles of red to form along the outside of his mouth and all the way up his right cheek, spanning to barely a millimeter below his tear line.

"Dude, what the honk is your problem?" Karl shouts, rushing over to aid a distressed Techno. "Let me see, Techno. Move your hand. Oh.. That's bad.. Housemother, Techno's flesh is burnt."

Housemother grabs Dream by his ear and yanks him from his seat. "Why would you do that?! Go to your room, immediately! You're not doing favors for yourself, Clay. Your foster parents will be hearing about this one, young man."

"I.. I didn't mean.. I.. uh.. I'm.. Whatever.." Dream mumbles, angrily stomping away from the dining hall.

Techno watches him as he goes, fuming while Karl and Wilbur try to get a good look at his fresh wound. His cheek is sizzling with hurt, but the fact that Dream got one up on him is even more painful. Finally, Karl manages to rip Techno's hand away from his face and slap a cold slice of tomato from the salad against his smoldering skin.

"A tomato? Really, Karl?" asks Wilbur, trying to examine his brother's face.

"What else was I supposed to use? He's hurt, Will!"

Wilbur rolls his eyes and grabs onto Techno's hand. "Come on. Let's go upstairs and find something to put on that. I don't have much of an appetite anymore."

"Neither do I.." grumbles Techno, still watching where Dream exited.

The twins head back on upstairs as Techno silently seethes, unable to form a coherent sentence that doesn't involve multiple curse words. Techno's dilated pupils refuse to focus on anything as Wilbur sits him on his bed and rushes back out of their room. Without a thought, Techno gently runs a singular fingertip over his cheek, sucking in a sharp breath of pain.

"Techno? Don't touch that!" Wilbur scolds, leaning down to examine his burn. "I found some cream in the medicine cabinet."

A slight knock comes from their door. "Techno? Wilbur? Let me in! It's Bad."

"It's open," says Wilbur.

Bad, followed by Skeppy, comes bounding into the room. "Oh my muffins! Are you okay? You poor thing!"

"I'm okay," Techno softly answers, though he's holding back so much fury. "How's it look?"

"Gross. Here, I'll make it better."

Bad carefully moves Techno's hand away from his face, eyes examining flustered and blistering skin. He scoots very close to Techno as Skeppy plants himself on the floor next to Techno. Brown eyes caress brown eyes before Bad delicately leans in and places a small kiss against Techno's tender cheek.

"Thank you, Bad."

Two more figures come gliding through the door, as pressed together as ever. Wilbur squirts a bit of cream onto his finger and begins treating his twin's wound as the youngest brother and his best friend squish themselves together on the opposite side of Techno. Tommy leans his blonde head against Techno's shoulder, looking up at his brother with a playful smile. Techno returns the gaze with a little more snarkiness.

"He gotcha good, didn't he, bruv?" asks Tommy.

"Tommy!" Bad shouts, a disappointing look apparent on his sweet features.

He shrugs, letting his head fall into Techno's lap. "Housemother is calling his foster parents as we speak. How pathetic is that?"

"Extremely," answers Alex, prancing through the room with an angry expression. "I couldn't even eat my damn dinner! I'm a growing boy, and I need my nutrients!"

"You're never going to get taller. Just give up on that aspiration," grumbles George, smacking the door as he walks past it.

Karl laughs, entering next. "True. How's the face, Techno? Did my tomato help?"

Techno sticks his pierced tongue out. "The orphan has tried to ruin my perfect face."

"Come on, Ranboo! You're so slow." Fundy enters next, tugging along the tall freak that is Ranboo, ears perked up and tail swaying with each motion. "We made it! How's Techno?"

Techno sneers. "I've been better. Glad you could make it to the party."

"We wouldn't miss it! Right, Ranboo?" asks Fundy, nuzzling him as they sit on the floor.

Ranboo stares at the floor. "Yes.."

At last, Sapnap comes idling into Techno and Wilbur's room, scooping food from his plate directly into his mouth. All of the boys give him a confused and slightly dismayed look. He just shrugs, slowly making his way over to Wilbur's bed. Sapnap spreads out and sets his plate on top of his chest as he keeps eating the dinner that the rest of them gave up in order to comfort Techno.

"What? Am I not allowed to talk shit about Dream _and_ shovel some food into my mouth at the same time?" Sapnap questions.

"You're sharing that with me!" shouts Tubbo, racing across the room to steal some dinner.

As soon as Wilbur finishes expertly applying a large bandage, he turns to their crowded bedroom and announces, "You animals have no shame! Are we going to let Dream get away with assaulting Techno?"

"To be fair, I did assault Dream earlier today.." pipes Fundy.

"That was deserved," Techno says. He rises from his bed and makes eye contact with each friend, excluding Ranboo, who's still looking directly at the floor. "Listen to me, scoundrels. I'm burnt. He tried to embarrass me in front of all of you! Up until today, sure, my feud with Clay Dream was petty, but now.. now it's fucking personal."

George eyes him. "What are you going to do? Yeah, what he did was shitty, but.. he's kinda cute."

Almost all of the boys make gagging sounds and boo George as they pelt him with anything their teenage hands can grasp: pillows, books, a stray pair of glasses, and even some food from Sapnap's plate. Techno relishes in the war that unfolds around him. Screaming ensues as the boys begin to wrestle and taunt each other. Still, in the wake of such destruction, he stands tall, the commander of his teenage army. In this moment, amongst the rage within his small bedroom, Techno feels more hate than he ever has before.

"Well, Techno?" Tommy questions, in the midst of trying to strangle the furry. "What's your next move?"

Techno stares down at his little brother, eyes simmering and heart pounding as his fingers clench next to his sides. He pictures Dream's emerald eyes and plethora of freckles pressed above an awkward smile on the pinkest of lips. Techno can almost see the messy locks of sand sweeping across his forehead and narrowly touching his shoulders. The image of the young runner flickers perfectly in his mind now, unable to see anything but Dream and the color red.

"I'm going to ruin his life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! I'm in my last semester of high school right now, so I'm unsure how long this fic will take me to write, but I'll do my best to keep you guys fed! Feel free to leave me a comment!! They make me so happy. (^-^)/
> 
> Also, check out my CorpseKkuno fic from last November/December, 'Every Breath You Take', while you wait for me to update. You won't be disappointed. :]


	2. You're Gonna Get It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want you no more;  
> I ain't gonna give any more than you give to me.  
> I don't want you, it's too hard;  
> Can't try any harder than you tried for me.
> 
> You're gonna get it, babe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! In this installment, Techno and Dream clash more than ever. I really hope you all enjoy. :)

Techno exchanges quick glances with each of the boys rapidly cleaning their breakfast plates around the dining table. His eleven friends stuff their faces, Dream's untouched eggs and toast getting cold at the lonesome seat far from all the others. Wilbur winks at Techno, alerting the older twin that their plan is a go. Techno feels slightly worried upon noticing that Bad and Skeppy aren't eating as quickly as everyone else, for they are lost in each other's eyes. Luckily, Alex elbows Bad in his side to avert their attention back to the task at hand.

Housemother, seemingly content with the boys enjoying their morning meal, steps out of the dining room to let them eat. Techno nods to Tommy when she's far out of sight. He immediately rushes over to Dream's spot and grabs the plate of food that the boy desperately needs. Since he didn't eat dinner last night, breakfast will be crucial in giving him enough energy for his vital track meet later on. If Techno has things his way, though, nothing will go right.

"All right, boys.. Who wants the toast?" Tommy asks, sinisterly laughing.

Sapnap shoots a hand up. "Me!"

"I want the other half!" begs George.

"Divvy the eggs up between me and Techno," Wilbur demands, their plates already empty.

As soon as they hear the floorboards creaking, Tommy races over to his brothers to dish out Dream's eggs. He returns Dream's empty plate to his spot and stumbles to his seat, nearly falling over his own clunky feet. Tubbo manages to steady him as they smile at each other with mischievous eyes. When Dream walks in, the boys begin eating the last little bits of their food at a normal pace. They do not talk to each other or pay him any attention as he leans over his spot to grab his plate.

"Nice," he mumbles, letting the ceramic loudly fall back to the wooden table. "Hey, Techno. Can we talk? Alone? In the hallway?"

Techno acts as if he's not heard a thing, as do the other boys. Sighing, he steps over to where the pinkette is sitting, hair done in French braids today and cast over each of his shoulders so elegantly. Techno spent a decent amount of time expertly crafting his mane into a gorgeous symphony of beauty and bold grace this morning

"Techno? I'm not playing games. Just talk to me for one fucking second!"

Still, Techno stays there, perfectly unbothered as he finishes the last bites of his breakfast. Almost simultaneously, each plate on the table is scraped clean. The boys look at each other rather briefly before arising at once and carrying their plates into the kitchen. Dream stays close to Techno, clearly becoming more agitated as he's treated just as invisibly as Techno wishes he were.

"This isn't funny, Techno. Why are you ignoring me? Come on, you always have something smart to say. At least insult me," Dream demands.

All twelve housemates put their dishes in the sink and begin to disperse around the kitchen, some filling up their empty glasses with more juice or milk, others washing their hands, and some looking for a snack to toss in their bags for the school day. Techno finally turns around to face Dream, arms crossed against his chest and a displeased expression on his intimidating face. Dream's freckles sparkle in the lights from the overhead chandelier.

"Thanks for eating my breakfast, by the way. Totally not like I wanted any. How's your cheek? I.. I didn't mean for that to happen.. even if you _did_ deserve it."

Dream grabs a ruby-colored apple from the basket sitting on the counter and tosses it up in the air before catching it in one hand and taking a hefty bite with his sharp teeth. Techno's eyelids lower as he scoffs, leaning against the counter to cross his ankles. His red and black plaid jeans end in cuffs right before his heeled Doc Martens begin. Techno is known for his style, while Dream here is in that damn green hoodie once again. Critiquing Dream in Techno's mind is one thing, but he'd sure love to say a few things aloud for his friends to hear.

"Can I see what's behind that bandage? My foster mother is a nurse. I might know how to treat it better than Will. Unless, it's all for attention. Is that it? Is that why you won't talk to me?"

The boys standing around the kitchen finally break their silence to ooh and ahh at Dream's snide remark. Techno, unable to keep his lips pressed together for any longer, stands upright from his comfortable lean and walks right up to Dream. Dream squares up to him, not allowing himself to cower in Techno's shadow for any longer. Green eyes and brown eyes search one another for a hint of humanity, but Techno sees nothing worth trying for. In fact, he sees everything he wants to destroy.

As Dream goes in for bite of his apple, Techno grabs it from his hand and stretches his mouth right over the mark Dream had just made. He fills his mouth with as much apple as his chipmunk cheeks can hold before biting with all of the strength in his jaw. Techno looks back at Dream, just a few inches from his face, and spits the contents of his mouth directly at his smirk. Every boy in the kitchen begins belly laughing and falling over onto each other.

"My burn isn't for attention, Dream," begins Techno, aiming at the nearest trashcan and shooting Dream's apple into it. "But that sure as hell was."

"Techno! You're an insane motherfucker!" Alex laughs, barely able to stand upright.

Dream wipes the apple and spit off of his face and directly onto the floor, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Bad tries desperately hard to hold in his giggles, but even he isn't immune to Techno's charm. Before the boys ditch Dream in the kitchen, Techno blows him a kiss with a not-so-subtle middle finger. The boys laugh their way out of the kitchen, schoolbags in tow, with Techno following behind as he mentally praises himself on an early victory.

Today is going to be a good day.

~

Wilbur smiles at his brother from across the classroom, and Techno can't help but wink back. The younger beckons him to the back corner where his desk sits next to the tall window. The bell is just seconds away from ringing as Techno arises from his seat and struts over to his twin.

"What's the story?" asks Techno, planting himself on top of Wilbur's desk.

"I know where a certain con artist is gonna be after class. This is your chance to get some info on orphan boy."

Techno leans down to eyelevel. "Do tell.."

Wilbur fishes a card out of the pocket of his jeans and tucks it into Techno's hand. "Johnathan Schlatt. New Yorker, only here to get out of expulsion from his school in the city. He can get any dirt on any kid in school. Rumor has it that he has a gun. He'll be in the teacher's lounge for an hour after school for the next two weeks, making copies and grading tests for various teachers as an alternative to suspension."

"Woah, Will. How'd you find this kid, exactly?" Techno asks, narrowing his eyes at the fine print.

The brunette grins and answers, "I have my ways. Also known as Alex. He's kinda serving time as well.."

"Not surprised there. Hasn't he been kicked out of English like six times in the past month? I feel bad for whoever's partnering with him on the midterm!"

"Maybe if he stopped showing up to first period high off his ass.. Never mind that, yes! If you're serious about ruining his life and all, start with Schlatt. He'll nail any task you've got," says Wilbur.

Techno nods. "For sure. If one more person asks me what's under this eyesore of a bandage, I'm going to flip my shit. Think I should change it yet?"

"Let it breathe, brother. You're still pretty, okay? I'm sure it can't be _that_ bad.."

The bell rings, signaling the end of class for the day. Techno purses his lips at a smiling Wilbur, scrunching his nose when Will finally stands up and puts his backpack on. He gives a slight wave before stepping out of the room and leaving Techno all alone with a thousand thoughts caught in his pink head. This Schlatt kid seems to have quite the reputation, and if Techno really wants to ensure that Dream makes it nowhere near nationals, he has to take his chances.

Before hitting the teacher's lounge, Techno makes a pitstop in the bathroom. He stands in front of the one porcelain sink that's _not_ full of used paper towels or condoms and looks at his pristine face in the scuffed mirror. His sharp eyebrows and high cheekbones add to his menacing handsomeness. Before last night, everything about his face was perfect. Now, patchy redness seeps up onto his eye socket, nearly swelling it shut, on half of his nose, and spreading to his lips.

"Oh, fuck it.." he mutters, grabbing the end of the white bandage and ripping it off.

Techno winces at the pain and then full on gasps upon seeing what's under the bandage. His skin is incredibly puffy, blood-colored, and full of yellow blisters. Techno has never seen himself look so gross before, and it's all fucking Dream's fault. He delicately presses a fingertip to one of the obscene blisters, gagging immediately at the squishy texture. How could he let this happen? Spitting apple in his face isn't nearly enough payback. No, this is only the beginning.

He steps out of the bathroom and into the empty hallway, relieved there is nobody around to see him with such a disgusting wound. Techno speeds off in search of Johnathan Schlatt, completely unsure of what to expect. This delinquent could be a number of things, but is it really such a good idea to enlist his help? Well, if it's to hurt Clay Dream, anything is worth a try. That is the only thing in Techno's life that he is completely sure of.

"Hello?" announces Techno, quietly stepping into the teacher's lounge. "Anybody here?"

"Oh! You scared the shit out of me.. What do you want?"

Techno visually studies the one they call Schlatt, looking him up and down and taking in the sight of such a New Yorker, accent just as thick as he imagined it to be. The kid in a Yankees hat is standing over the copier, stapling together each set of papers that comes shooting out. One of his eyebrows is curiously raised at the pinkette, only intriguing Techno even more.

"Schlatt, I presume?"

The kid nods. "So, you've heard of me. Lucky you. And, you are?"

"Techno Blade. I fence. You _may_ have heard of me.."

Schlatt grins widely. "Of course! Wilbur and Alex's boy, right? How could I not have heard of such a legend? What does a guy like you need from a guy like me, my friend?"

"The one and only. I was hoping you could help me get a couple of details about a certain up and comer at our boarding school.. I should mention, you have a very limited window of time. I'll the need the information before today's track meet. Can you manage?" asks Techno, leaning against the copier.

"No doubt about it. I've never failed a customer." Schlatt mimics Techno's pose. "So, what's in it for me?"

Techno lowers his eyelids. "What do you want?"

"Two things. I want.. _fencing lessons.._ and.. and a kiss!"

The pinkette lets out a deep laugh. "Even with my horrific burn? You don't find me grotty?"

"Are you joking? Even with that gnarly pus fest, you're still the prettiest guy in school. I take it you need dirt on whoever did that to you?" asks Schlatt, studying the burn.

Techno nods. "Yes. Clay Dream. You know him?"

"Kye Illumina's biggest challenge yet? 'Course I do! What do you want to know?"

"Two things," Techno reiterates, smirking. "I need to know which locker he uses to keep his track items in.. and the combination. I know it's the locker room out by the football field, but that's it. Can you help me, Schlatt?"

Schlatt finishes stapling his last set of papers. "Easy peasy. I request my first bit of payment now, though."

Techno playfully rolls his eyes and bunches up Schlatt's sweatshirt in both fists, quickly pulling him forward. Schlatt's wide eyes glisten with lust as Techno winks and goes in for a simple kiss. Schlatt quickly reciprocates, placing his hands on Techno's thin waist to fully get a grip on the pretty pinkette. Not too many people have the luxury of saying that Techno Blade has kissed them. Schlatt is a very lucky man.

"There we go. I suppose I should give you my number now?" questions Techno, pulling away.

He nods. "Yeah, we really should continue this in my room later.."

"Not _that!_ I mean so that you can send me the information I just paid for with my lips! What do you take me for?"

"Uh.. Hot?"

Techno rolls his eyes for real this time while grabbing a pen from the copier. "Give me your arm. You've killed this moment, Schlatt."

"I usually do." Schlatt outstretches his arm. "But, you'll still get your information on Clay Dream. Expect to hear from me soon after my detention is over, 'kay?"

Techno flashes a thumbs up. "Talk later, Schlatt.."

"Yes, we will."

~

The boarding house is painfully quiet today. Honestly, Techno doesn't mind the lack of noise. Without Sapnap and George arguing, Bad and Skeppy flirting, or Karl and Alex screaming like wild animals, Techno can peacefully rest without having to rip his hair out because of his boys. He takes in a deep breath, eyelids heavy, and begins trekking up to his and Will's bedroom. Upon realizing that their door is slightly cracked open, Techno's pesky senses heighten.

"Wilbur? Are you home?" Techno asks, pressing his way into the room.

But, when Techno looks around, his brother is nowhere in sight. Instead, his fencing suit is strewn about the floor, and Techno's precious sabre is nowhere in sight. He exasperatedly rolls his eyes and stomps into the hall, immediately racing toward Tommy and Tubbo's room. Techno begins to relentlessly bang his fist on the door.

"Tommy! What the hell did I tell you about touching Delilah? Leave my fucking sabre alone!"

"Dave? What's going on? Why are you shouting?" asks Housefather, poking his head up from the staircase.

Techno sighs and explains, "Tommy must've taken my sabre when he got home from school. Have you seen him around here?"

"Oh, well, the only kids that have come home so far are you and Clay. Try asking him."

The pinkette's brown eyes widen as a sudden rush of horror breathes down his neck. "Thanks, Housefather. I will."

Techno tries to keep his cool as he passes Housefather on the stairs to get to Dream's room. He can feel his soul start to evaporate as a glint of silver catches his eyes, sitting right outside of Dream's bedroom door. Delilah, Techno's trusty fencing sabre that has won him countless matches and tournaments over the course of his lifetime is snapped into two pieces and bent in several different directions. The whites of his eyes turn blood red as Techno kneels over her corpse, heart shattering in his ironclad chest.

"DREAM! OPEN YOUR GODDAMN DOOR!" Techno shouts, kicking his door as hard as he can.

"Dave!" exclaims Housemother, running in from the kitchen. "What's going on? Clay just left; is everything okay? Please, tell me you two aren't still fighting.."

Techno clenches his teeth, a lump forming in his throat. "Uh, no, everything's fine. Happen to know where he's run off to?"

"He mentioned something about warming up before his track meet. That's all I know. Let me know if you need anything, Dave."

Housemother steps away from the murder scene, leaving Techno heartbroken with Delilah in his shaky hands, silently mourning her untimely death. This act of treason is far too personal for Techno to let Dream get away with. Sure, he originally knew that he was intent on sabotaging the track meet for Dream, but now, Techno is more sure than ever that Dream will not even have the chance to compete.

That's when Techno's phone beeps.

_UNKNOWN NUMBER: hey pretty pink. it's schlatt. got ur info on the orphan boy. locker 12, combo 34-16-05. can't wait to spend time w u later when we "fence". good luck out there. ;)_

~

"Where are we going?" Ranboo weakly asks, as Techno pulls him along by the sleeve of his suit.

"Stop asking questions, Boo. Keep up with me!"

Ranboo picks up his speed. "Is this a kidnapping?"

"It will be if you don't cooperate. Listen, you have to be cool about this. Do you know what that means?"

The taller shakes his head and mumbles, "I wanna go back to Fundy.."

"Fundy's busy practicing!"

Ranboo sighs and lets himself be dragged away by Techno. The bumbling pinkette checks to make sure the coast is clear before tugging Ranboo into the football field's locker room. Techno has to refrain from gagging at the overwhelming scent of sweaty, teenage boy as it attacks him right in the eyes and nose. Ranboo looks at him confusedly, but he averts eye contact when Techno returns such an expression. Is this going too far? Maybe. Does he care? Not a bit.

"What are we doing here, Techno? Shouldn't we go sit with the boys? The meet's about to start.."

"Okay, listen up, you freakishly tall weirdo. I need your help, all right? Dream _broke_ my fencing sabre. Plus, he burnt my face last night. You don't need to know what I have planned. Your job is to stand at the door and make sure nobody comes in. If you see Dream, get my attention. Can you do this for me, Ranboo?" Techno asks, articulating each word.

Ranboo skittishly nods. "Yes, Techno. I'll watch out for Dream."

Techno slyly smirks and winks, shoving Ranboo back out of the door. Thanks to Tommy and Tubbo, Dream is fashionably late. Techno may or may not have recruited his baby brother and said brother's best friend to make sure Dream didn't make it to the locker room with the rest of the runners competing today.. It sure as hell pays to have allies in this school.

As soon as Techno finds the twelfth locker, he quickly dials in the combination that Schlatt texted to him and unearths what Dream is keeping in his cubby. His lime green hoodie that he never goes anywhere without is hiding his other belongings. Techno rips it out, deciding that he can use it after a good wash. Surely, the orphan won't miss his precious hoodie, right? Perhaps he'll just take it back home, shred it with some kitchen shears, and leave it in the same place that Dream carelessly left his innocent sabre..

"What else have you got in here, Dreamy?" Techno whispers, sifting through his junk and pulling out a red inhaler. "Huh, you don't need this."

Techno tosses the inhaler into the nearest garbage can before returning his attention back to Dream's items. A pair of running shoes join the inhaler next, but what's left behind the shoes isn't a uniform or bottle of pain medication like Techno imagined. No, it's much more concerning. Techno glances around the empty locker room once more before grabbing two syringes that are packaged in protective plastic.

"Sodium chloride? Heparin? What the hell do you have these solutions in your locker for, Dreamy?"

Each syringe is fully filled with the respective fluid, completely capped and just dying to be cracked into. Techno is almost tempted to break them open and squirt them into the sink next to Dream's locker, but he's almost nervous to. There is a stack of alcohol wipes and sterile gauze in paper packs behind the syringes, those of which Techno doesn't mind scattering across the floor. Before he can dig deeper into the medical supplies, he picks up on a ruckus coming from where he left Ranboo to guard the entrance.

"Wait! Dream! Before you go in there.. I.. uh.. um.. I need your h-help with.. s-something.." Ranboo stutters.

"Can't it wait, Ranboo? I really need to get my shoes changed. My meet is in five minutes."

Ranboo squeals as Dream steps past him. "Techno, I'm sorry!"

Techno's face goes pale as Dream steps into his view, totally caught going through his things. Ranboo looks incredibly nervous and sickened as he stares at the ground and rubs the back of his neck. The kid is no doubt seconds away from passing out or vomiting.. probably both.

"What are you doing in my locker, Techno?!"

The pinkette lets the syringes in his hands fall to the floor. "Wondering why the hell you keep so much suspicious shit in here. If you want your inhaler back, I threw it in the janitor's closet."

"You've got some fucking nerve! What gives you the right to do this to me? This is such an invasion of privacy, not to mention gross as hell," Dream spits, clomping his way into the janitor's closet. "I can't believe you're so jealous of me that you'd go out of your way to find my locker and fuck with my stuff.."

Techno quickly shuts the door behind Dream, locking it immediately. "I lied, by the way. Your inhaler is in the trash. This is what you fucking get for breaking Delilah.."

"Hey! Let me out! This match is-"

"Important to you?" Techno interrupts, pressing his ear against the door. "So was my sabre. You know, everything was perfectly fine until you slithered into our house. Nobody likes you, Dream! And, thanks to me, Kye Illumina will get what he's always wanted: a spot in nationals. You aren't gonna make it to today's hyped meet, unfortunately.."

Dream bangs on the door rapidly. "No! Let me out! This is so fucked up, even for you, Techno. Open the door, please! Why are you doing this to me? It's just one damn sword.."

Techno looks to Ranboo, standing awkwardly in the wake of such drama. "You, scram! As for _you,_ Dream, please know that I hate you. You're a disgustingly depraved orphan with a dream that will never come true. Do yourself a favor and crawl back to sewer you came from, for as long as I rule this school, you will stay friendless! Nobody cares that you can run fast! Nobody cares that your parents are dead! Nobody cares about _you,_ 'mkay?"

"You're gonna pay for this! Don't you dare leave me in here! Techno! Techno, let me out!" Dream tries yanking the handle and pounding on the door again, but Techno's hate remains firm as he traces his fingertips across his ugly cheek and pictures Delilah in two pieces. "I'm gonna get you for this! If you take nationals away from me, you will pay! You hear me? You're gonna pay! YOU WILL PAY, TECHNO BLADE!"

But, Techno is already running back outside, his heart racing a mile a minute. He tries to catch his breath and calm his nerves before slinking up the metal bleachers and spotting his housemates at the very top. He calmly smiles upon noticing that Wilbur and Karl are waving at him like the dorks they are. Everything is fine, and everyone is calm. Nobody has a slight clue that Dream is trapped in a closet, except for Ranboo, and Techno plans on keeping it this way until the meet is over and done with.

"There you are, brother. We thought you got caught up with Dream," Wilbur comments, as Techno sits next to him.

"Not a chance," lies Techno, stealing a peek at Ranboo to make sure he hasn't spilled anything about their endeavor. "Did I miss anything?"

Karl shakes his head. "Illumina and Fundy are taking their places now, but none of us have seen Dream. Looks like he's gonna be late."

"No way in hell they'll let him compete if he's late. Lumi definitely has the one up here," interjects Sapnap, between bites of popcorn.

Ranboo moves down next to Techno, his legs bouncing and hands shaking as he leans into Techno's ear to ask, "Did we do a bad thing?"

"Yes. Keep it to yourself, or I'll put you in the closet next."

The loudspeaker above them crackles to life. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of Snowchester High. Please take your seats as we prepare for today's meet. As most of you know, one of the main events of today includes Kye Illumina and Clay Dream attempting to show off their skills in order to secure a spot in the United States track and field nationals. The race will begin in three minutes."

"Psst," Karl whispers, tapping on Techno's shoulder. "Lean back so I can play with your hair."

Techno complies and lets himself lie between Karl's legs so that the older can undo his French braids and begin combing his fingers through the never-ending silk of cotton candy pink. Beside him, Ranboo seems to be having an existential crisis, almost as if trapped Dream is screaming inside of his tortured mind right about now. Down at the track, Fundy is running in place and periodically jumping into the air. The rest of the boys sit around Techno, eating and chattering away, having no idea of what Techno just did to Dream.

"Well," the speaker hums, grasping Techno's attention. "It seems as though Clay Dream is either late or not coming to the match. He'll be disqualified for today, and this mix-up surely won't help his chances. It's Kye Illumina's time to shine!"

The boys look at each other in confusion, but when Wilbur's eyes lock onto his with a naughty glint, Techno knows his secret won't be contained for long. He winks at his twin brother, relishing in the way Karl twists his long locks around his dainty hands, unknowing and as happy as ever. Now more than ever, Techno is completely sure that he's the second worst thing that has ever happened to that damn orphan, Clay Dream.

He simply has nothing to worry about.

Well, except for the lime green hoodie Techno has tucked under his thighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Techno, how could you? Things are about to heat up.. Leave a comment if your heart desires! They make me very happy!! <3


	3. Ways To Be Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can take a little pain;  
> I can hold it pretty well.  
> I can watch your little eyes light up;  
> When you're walkin' me through hell.  
> Yeah, I've been your fool before, babe;  
> And I probably will again.  
> No, you ain't afraid to let me have it;  
> Honey, you ain't afraid to stick it in.
> 
> You know so many ways to be wicked;  
> But you don't know one little thing about love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! A bit longer than the first two, so I really hope it's just as captivating of a read. Enjoy it!

The sky cries down onto Mother Earth, feeding her soil with delicious rainwater that all of the plants' roots can soak up and all of the roaming critters can drink out of the untouched cracks of her body. Thunder rattles the planet as bursts of cyan and lavender crackle amongst the cotton clouds, producing the most brilliantly colored canopy. Techno's boots splash through each puddle filling the emerald grass as he runs, weaving through the courtyard with his housemates in tow. The screeches and laughter of teenage boys fill the rain, welcoming a new day.

"Faster!" Techno shouts, picking up his speed and not minding that his umbrella is doing little to protect him from the showers.

"My legs are short!" squeals Tubbo.

Wilbur stops dead in his tracks, completely soaked without an umbrella to cover him. "Fuck it! No man left behind!"

He hoists Tubbo over one shoulder and takes off again as the younger boy screams. Fundy giggles while climbing onto Ranboo's back, solely to shield the tallest boy's head from the rain. Ranboo hates the rain with all of his heart, but luckily, furry little Fundy makes a nice raincoat. Techno's hair flows behind him as he begins to run again, not minding the mud that splashes up onto his own boots and coat.

"Wait for us!" Bad begs, gripping Skeppy's hand as they race for the other boys. "My hat flew off! Hold up!"

They pause once more, congealing into a big pile of wet teenagers, all grasping at each for shelter, yet none of them being spared from the unrelenting thunderstorm. Sapnap and George continuously push each over into the mud as the group races to the English department. It takes them much longer to get to first period than usual, but Techno doesn't particularly mind. He's feeling rather good today, and the rain only adds to his positive mood.

Once inside the English building, the boys part ways to head to their respective classes. The nice thing about having all four grades in one house is that there's always something new going on. The brotherly love allows the older kids to help the younger kids with assignments, and the younger kids just adore being the ones that get to sit all cute-like while the older kids run their presentations and projects by for a quick review. Techno and Wilbur share their first period, so they don't have to leave each other's sides when walking into class.

"God, that was brutal," Wilbur sighs, tearing off his wet sweater. "You look like you just swam across the Pacific."

"I think I did. The good news is, with the weather being so honked, as Karl would say, Miss Evers is going to be even later than usual. You're gonna partner with me on the midterm, right?"

Wilbur rolls his eyes. "Of course, I am! You're the only kid I'd share my vast knowledge of the English language with. Plus, this project is thirty fucking percent of our final grade, and I'm working with a low B right about now. I need to ace this."

Techno nods, hanging his raincoat up on the coatrack before grabbing his hairbrush from his bag and beginning to comb the water from his hair. The darkened sky outside momentarily lights up as the booming sound of thunder shakes the brick walls. Techno's eyelids lower upon noticing Dream's empty seat. The coward didn't show up for dinner last night or breakfast this morning after being disqualified from yesterday's match. Techno couldn't be happier with himself.

"Well, someone got cold feet. Think he'll ever show his face in this school again?" Techno humors, eyeing Dream's forlorn desk.

The brunette smirks. "I wouldn't. Wonder who ended up letting him out of that closet, you damn devil."

"Hopefully, he's still there!"

They both begin to laugh like hyenas at the possibility that no one on the track team would end up finding him or releasing him from his janitorial prison. Perhaps Dream has dropped out, run back to his meaningless home of other parentless kids. He's quite pitiful, honestly, and Techno mentally wonders to himself why he decided to infiltrate their safe haven to begin with. This school will never feel like home as long as Dream roams these halls.

"I'm not," states a cold voice.

As if on cue, both Wilbur and Techno turn to the doorway to see Dream, soaking wet from the rain and lime green hoodie no longer shielding his pasty arms. "Good to see your face, Clay. Have you seen mine lately? I can barely open my fucking left eye."

"Listen, you arrogant, ugly, psychotic, brainless bitch! You've fucked with my life for the very last time, 'mkay? Ever since I was forcibly enrolled at this place, just to fucking run and do well with my studies, you've gone out of your way to exclude and banish me from ever gaining an ounce of true friendship. What in God's name is wrong with you? I envy every goddamn person that has never had to hear your atrocious voice. You're done walking all over me. You're done!"

The entire class gasps in sudden terror as top dog, _the_ Techno Blade, is talked down to by the mysterious runner that no one has dared to get close to, for fear of wronging the only kid in school that has a say in how much one's life matters around these parts. Techno walks right up to the fiery blonde and shoves him as hard as he can into the hallway. Dream stumbles backwards as Techno presses him up against the lockers on the opposite side of the wall as kids run out of their classes to see what the commotion is all about.

"You really think you're man enough to take me, Clay Dream? I own you. You don't have friends because of me. Gogy, the only boy in our house that can tolerate you, won't even look at you half the time because he loves me so much. You aren't getting to nationals because of me. And, Dream, I can assure you that you're gonna be the most hated kid in Oregon because of me," Techno softly declares.

"You really believe that?"

Techno nods, his face a full smirk. "With all of my black heart."

Dream grabs onto the shiny septum ring glistening against Techno's button nose. "Then show all of your disciples what you are made of."

"Get him, Techno!" Wilbur cheers, egging the crowd on. "Kick his fucking ass!"

The eyes of the orphan boy sparkle in the fluorescents of the hallway lights as he tugs Techno closer to him by his tender piercing. He swings his head back before banging his skull into Techno's. The kids watching them all echo grunts of pain as the pinkette loses his edge, the world suddenly much more staticky than it should be. He balances himself just in time to dodge an oncoming punch from Dream's strong fist.

"Is that all you've got, Dream? Are you forgetting that I'm the best PVPer for miles and miles?"

"Oh, yeah? Where's your sabre now, Piggy?" taunts Dream.

Techno's posture seems to fix itself at the adrenaline spike Dream's fighting words drill into his bones. He aims the toe of his right boot directly at the painful bump that Fundy inflicted onto him just a couple days prior. Dream crumples at the influx of pure agony, giving Techno the temporary upper hand. When Techno attempts to go in for another kick, Dream grabs his leg and yanks him onto the tile. Techno takes a loud fall as Dream climbs over him.

"What're you gonna do now?" Techno asks, nearly pressing his nose against Dream's.

Dream smiles, threading his fingers into Techno's long hair and squeezing tightly. "Ruin the other half of that pretty face of yours."

The world begins to spin as bells and sirens attack Techno's eardrums. He can feel his mouth fill with metallic blood as it seeps past his tender lips. Techno's blurry vision goes in and out as he attempts to push Dream off of him. Two more blows to his jaw nearly shove him well beyond his breaking point, but he can't let Dream win in front of everyone he knows. In order to get Dream to stop clocking him, Techno has to violently dig his elbow into Dream's mouth. Dream retaliates by pulling Techno's hair as hard as he can, making the pinkette howl.

"Stop! Let it go!" Techno shrieks, as Dream begins to rip out handfuls of pink locks.

Techno spits a mouthful of blood directly into Dream's eyes, causing him to cry out as he tries desperately to make the stinging stop. Techno mounts himself on Dream's hips while his guard is down, scalp pulsating as he decks Dream right in his cheekbone. His face begins to bleed and swell just the way Techno's has. Dream digs his nails into Techno's neck, slicing his flesh open as Techno beats the shit out of his face.

When Techno can no longer take the pain of having his neck ripped into, Dream grabs his arms and begins twisting his wrists to get the pinkette off of him. Blood and hair litter their battle ground as kids around them chant and beg for more unnecessary violence. Both Techno and Dream are weak and in pain, neither of them having high ground as they hit, punch, kick, scratch, knee, and even _bite_ each other. The ringing in Techno's ears heightens as blood spills from his nose to his mouth and from his mouth onto both of their pairs of clothing and the tainted tile around them.

"Boys, boys, boys, boys!" shouts Miss Evers, breaking through the crowd and into the pain fest happening between Techno and Dream. "What the hell is happening? Get off!"

Miss Evers grabs both of them by the backs of their necks and pulls them apart. She's a petite woman, yes, and Techno and Dream are over six feet, _yes,_ but her willpower destroys their dying fight. Techno's losing consciousness as she rips him and Dream away from each other. He feels pain in every atom of his being, no longer able to throw a single punch.

"Oh no.." mumbles Techno, his eyes halfway closing as he falls to his knees and heaves his guts out onto the floor that his blood and hair is covering.

"Oh fuck.." Dream says next, tumbling over his own feet and landing right next to Techno to puke just as hard.

With both boys defeated and on the brink of fainting, Miss Evers ushers every stray kid back to class while Techno and Dream writhe on the floor, glaring at each other with immense hatred. Bruised, bloody expressions scream a million more words than either of their mouths could ever say as they slip away from this reality and into one where their physical torment cannot follow.

Everything is warm and beautiful once again.

~

The soft pitter-patter of rain against glass lulls Techno into half-consciousness, long eyelashes fluttering to moisten his swollen orbs. He tries to part his lips, in dire need of some water to rehydrate his tongue, but they're stuck together with dried, metallic blood. Techno's fuzzy mind does not want to rip away from the foggy window, even though he _needs_ to grasp his bearings. His temples pulsate rather violently above his ears. Why is he in so much agony?

Unable to stare at the window for a second longer without dozing back to sleep, Techno makes the rash decision to turn his neck to the other side. What he does expect is to see the school infirmary, maybe the nurse, possibly his dad or brothers.. but what Techno _doesn't_ expect to see is a pair of the angriest green eyes he's ever seen, lying in the bed right next to him.

"Wow.. you're ugly," Techno mumbles, smiling through the pain at Dream's battered face.

"Says you.." Dream narrows his bruised eyes, bloody nose and lips crinkling as well. "You look like you just got hit by a fucking truck."

Techno clenches his teeth. "Do not. You hit like a girl."

"Tell that to the half gallon of blood on your face."

The pinkette attempts to sit upright, but everything hurts so much. He audibly whimpers, head sticking to the pillow like a magnet. Every muscle, joint, and bone in his body feels as though its been tenderized repeatedly. Dream scoffs at him, looking up at the ceiling and showing off the half of his face that was previously buried in the pillow. The other cheek is just as purple and red with dried blood and ample claw marks, breaking into precious skin and tweenhood acne scars.

"I can't look worse than you. Would have won if Miss Evers hadn't stepped in," Techno grumbles, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "This is all your fault. All your fucking fault, Clay Dream."

"Mine?! My fucking fault?! You locked me in a closet. I didn't get to race yesterday because of your jealousy and hatred. God, you're so blind to your own actions. You really think what you are is 'good', right? Disgusting.. You _disgust_ me.."

Techno draws his eyebrows together and violently pushes Dream off the small bed they're crammed onto in the infirmary. He curses under his breath at the pain that shoots through his nervous system at such an abrasive move, Dream moaning as soon as he hits the floor. Techno reaches a limp hand up to cup his swollen jaw, instinctive tears of pain welling up on his waterlines.

"Take that, motherfucker.."

Dream grips the sheet of the bed, still wallowing on the floor, and tugs with all of his might. Techno lets out a yelp as he lands onto Dream. They both wail and slowly attempt to grab at each other's limbs and start up another round of ass kicking. It's pretty useless, though, for neither of them have enough stamina to soak up the pain again. Still, the hotheads try..

"Hey, hey, hey!" shouts Miss Evers, running into the infirmary. "What? Really? You two beat each other so senseless that you vomited _and_ passed out, yet you want to go again? I'm appalled!"

Techno rolls off of Dream, landing next to him on the floor. "Sorry, Miss Evers.."

She leans over him. "Really, Blade? Don't tell it to me. Tell it to your frantic father who's on the phone."

"Fuck.." Techno slaps a hand over his mouth. "I mean, oh yes! My father. Good 'ole Phil. Tell him I'm in the shower, please and thank you."

"Ten seconds, Blade, or I'm sending an expulsion request to the schoolboard."

The pinkette grabs ahold of the cot he fell from and shakily rises to his feet, putting a fake smile on his mangled face while demanding, "Take me to him!"

"Gladly. Dream, get back on that bed, or so help me God.."

Dream stumbles over his own feet while pulling himself back to the cot, holding in groans as Miss Evers glares at him. Techno flips him the middle finger while walking into the connecting nurse's office, mentally dreading the chat ahead. His pink hand with black and blue knuckles hovers over the plastic phone as if to prolong the moment for the maximum amount of time.

"Hey, Dadza.. How's it going?" Techno softly asks., upon answering.

"Dave Blade, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Phil questions, a harsh tone forcing spikes into Techno's body.

Techno's stomach nearly implodes. "Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Son.."

Phil's eldest child sighs as he admits, "Okay, yes, I got into a fight. What do I do?"

"This one's for you to figure out, Techno. You're almost an adult, and you cannot depend on me to get you out of every sticky situation. You know I'm teaching a class right now across the campus, so figure it out yourself."

"Okay, Dad.. Are you mad at me?"

Phil groans. "I'm not pleased! We'll talk about this tonight. I'll call your housemother and tell her you and your brothers are coming to mine for dinner. Goodbye, Techno."

The line hums dead as Techno bites his lip with imminent terror. None of this would have happened if Dream hadn't thrown a punch. None of this would have happened if Dream hadn't broken his sabre. None of this would have happened if Dream hadn't hit him with a potato. None of this would have happened if Dream had never moved come to Oregon and into _his_ boarding house.

Everything that's been going wrong in Techno's life as of late leads directly back to Clay Dream.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Techno shouts, dashing back into the infirmary.

Techno catches Dream off guard, slapping him directly across the face before pushing him down onto the cot. Techno climbs on top of him once again, clawing his face as Dream screams and tries to push him off. This last burst of adrenaline fuels him just enough to hit him right in the broken blood vessels and red coated features. Miss Evers shouts behind him, trying so desperately to pull Techno from Dream.

"Blade! Blade, you've proven your point!"

Finally, she successfully tugs him off and back onto the floor where he lands with hair in his eyes and mouth and hate in his heart. "Miss Evers, this is all because of _him!_ He threw the first punch! He's ruined everything for me! Expel him! Expel him!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH," she demands, silencing the pinkette. "God, you two are insane! Shouldn't you be friends? The best runner, the best fencer.. These are things in common! What's with all of this bloodshed?"

"Sorry, Miss Evers. I just really hate narcissistic assholes that think they own everybody in the whole world while also looking like piggy bitches! Oink oink, ugly."

Techno flashes him the crazy eyes while attempting to attack him from the floor. Miss Evers steps between them, looking just as disappointed and angry as ever. Dream rolls his eyes while slinking back down on the cot, breaking out in a sweat as his pasty skin loses even more color.

"You don't look so good, Dream. Do you need me to call your doc-"

"No!" Dream exclaims, cutting her off. "I'm fine. Can you just tell us how long we are suspended for?"

She sighs, sitting down at the end of the cot. "How's it gonna look to all of those universities barking up your alleys when they find out you both got months out of school for trying to kill each other?"

"Months?!" Techno screeches.

Dream quickly sits up again. "No fucking way!"

"Hey, hey, hey.. SHH! Listen, I'm not going to ruin your futures just because of a petty rivalry. Just suspension wouldn't teach you a thing, in all actuality. I have a better idea in mind that the principal and I talked about while you two slept. Care to hear?"

Techno fakes a gag. "Not really."

"I'll call your dad back!" Techno's eyes widen as he zips his lips. "One week suspension.. _and.._ you two are partnering on the midterm. For the next month, you two will be connected at the hip, or you can fail my class and work as grocery baggers for the rest of your lives.."

"What the fuck?" Dream shouts, standing up now. "That's so unfair!"

Techno crosses his arms. "No way in hell I'm working with _that!"_

Miss Evers smiles, mimicking his pose. "Fine by me. Paper or plastic?"

"Miss Evers!" he protests.

She shakes her head. "Don't even try. If you kids intend to pass, better start talking about the thirty slide presentation, five page essay, and ten minute oral speech you're set to give in exactly five weeks. Better get home, boys! You're suspended."

Dream and Techno look at each other with hate and fury as Miss Evers grins widely, proudly displaying that she knows exactly how much she'll be torturing them. Deep within Techno's cloudy soul, he is well aware that this is the worst outcome of any scenario unfolding between the two in the history of ever. And, the hell is only beginning..

~

"Dad, you can't be serious! Please, tell me you're not going to let this ignorant punishment stand," begs Techno, nearly dropping the ice pack he's had pressed against his face for the past ten minutes.

Phil sighs while removing his ovens mitts. "Son, Miss Evers is completely justified in her decision. If anything, she's been mighty lenient on the two of you."

As Tommy finishes setting the table, he interjects, "You should have seen it, Dadza! It was the most epic display of blood and guts I've ever seen. Tubbo started crying!"

"Thomas!" Phil scolds.

Tommy's blue eyes widen as he abruptly sits and quiets his mouth. Wilbur enters the room with a smile on his face, but it soon disappears as he takes in the sight of his brothers and father staring at him with annoyance. The tension is palpable as Techno props himself up onto the counter and presses the ice pack back to his puffy jaw. His pain is so much deeper now that night has fallen and his wounds have had a chance to fester.

"What did I walk into?" asks Wilbur, idling near Techno.

"Dad's not getting my punishment lifted. Can you believe this?"

Wilbur gasps. "What?! Dadza, why? This Dream kid is bad news. You're not going to do anything at all? Not even try?"

"Boys, you have to understand that sometimes, you have to face the music. This is your orchestra, Techno. Either play in it or.. or maybe I should just send you back to California to live with your mother.. go back to regular school instead of a prestigious boarding school."

Techno nearly chokes on his own lungs. "How could you?!"

"Don't be like this, Tech-"

"Stop," Techno demands, stepping back onto the kitchen floor. "I don't need this from you of all people right now, Dad. I thought you'd have my back, but you're just like everyone else.."

The pinkette stomps his way out of the kitchen and heads straight for the door, even though his brothers and father are hot on his trail. Techno wastes no time in dashing outside, letting Phil's ice pack slip from his hands as he steps into the grass, still mushy from the storm.

"Techno, get back in the house. Come on, dinner's ready! You don't need to be running off in the shape you're in. For once in your life, stop coasting on your pride," Phil begs, standing on the stoop with his arms crossed.

But, Techno doesn't stop. He's got a long walk to get back home, but it won't stop Techno from taking off, just as angry as he was earlier. It's not like he particularly wanted to spend the night in a small apartment, barely large enough to house one person, let alone three growing boys. He'll be able to pout much more effectively in his empty bedroom than he ever could sleeping on the pull-out couch with his brothers.

Techno crosses the darkened campus, only the sound of his wet footsteps and the singing crickets to guide his way. Today has left him feeling wildly unfulfilled, in pain, and.. hungry as all hell. He doesn't have a warm meal to come back home to considering Housemother isn't expecting him until the morning. Can anything in Techno's life go right today?

"What the fuck..?" Techno mutters to himself, as he passes the fenced in football field. "Is that..? No, it can't be.. Huh?"

He carefully steps up to the fence, squinting at the blur whizzing into his vision. A familiar figure kicks up clouds of gravel dust as he rounds the outside of the track, running at full speed. The bright lights surrounding the stadium light him up, reflecting off of a pale, bare chest. Without his hoodie, it seems as though he's resorted to the next best thing.. _nothing._

"Well, if it isn't the orphan. Running after getting your ass beat? Figures.."

Techno crouches down to the ground, peering through the wire to keep his eyes steady while Dream runs right for him. He's never seen Dream in such a raw state. Unsurprisingly, the boy is ripped in his natural form. Techno rolls his eyes and sticks his pierced tongue out in disgust. As much as he should be thankful that his piercings survived through the fight, Techno wants to rip them out right now just to take away his attention from Dream's abs.

"Now, what have you got there?" he whispers, as Dream slows down.

On the right side of Dream's pasty chest is.. something. Techno can make out a tinge of red and blue on the ends of what seems to be plastic tubing protruding from his skin. He can't get any closer to inspect, though, for Dream is just ten feet in front of him now as he stops, digging a hand into the pocket of his shorts to answer his ringing phone. Techno connivingly taps a painted nail to his lip as he prepares himself to eavesdrop on the one he hates most.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, sliding a hand through his sweaty hair as he attempts to catch his breath. "Oh, I'm out on a run. Needed to detox." … "I know I shouldn't, but I couldn't handle staying at home. What do you need, exactly?" … "What? Please, no. I thought I had way more time than that! Can't you tell Dr. Astor I need a couple more months?" … "Why did you wait to tell me until now? Today's been such shit.. Such shit! I'll go and talk to him myself during my appointment tomorrow." … "I'm sorry for raising my voice. This is just so fucked up.. I need time to process this." … "Yeah, talk soon. Bye."

Techno raises an eyebrow, desperately attempting to piece together the missing parts of the conversation. The device hanging out of Dream's chest doesn't make a lick of sense to Techno's uneducated mind, no matter how hard he tries to fit it into Dream's story. Still, Techno can't draw a single conclusion.

"Fuck!" Dream exclaims, throwing his phone down on the track with unbelievable force. "Fuck this, fuck that, fuck me, _fuck everything!"_

Dream collapses onto the ground, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his face in his knees. For the first time since Techno has had the displeasure of meeting Dream, Dream is no longer enforcing a strong and confident façade. It all drains out of him as his body quakes, apparent sobs rocking him to the very core. Techno knows he's invading such a private moment, but he can't look away now. Dream's phone lies next to him, shattered beyond recognition. He looks completely broken.

Unable to stomach another minute of Dream's breakdown, Techno takes off running as quickly as he can, not minding that he's kicking up mud and working his pained body well past his limit. In fact, Techno doesn't stop until he's diving straight into the parlor of Boarding House 7, hyperventilating as he falls over his shaky legs.

"Dave? I wasn't expecting you tonight. Are your brothers with you?" asks Housemother. Techno shakes his head, unable to speak yet. "Oh, kid, you look terrible. You two really had quite the scrap, huh? God, I feel like I've failed you both as a housemother. Housefather feels the same."

"It's.. not.. your.. fault," Techno breathes, holding an arm around his stomach.

She gives him a pitiful look, placing one hand under his chin. "You two have so much in common. It's a true shame neither of you can see that."

"We're.. nothing.. of the.. same." Techno sits down on the couch to finish catching his breath. "I don't think we'll ever be on good terms. He's such a pain in my side, Housemother. I just wish he'd disappear."

Housemother frowns. "Dave, you don't mean that. You never know what others are going through."

"What do you mean? Does it have something to do with those tubes in his chest?"

The color drains from her soft cheeks. "He showed you?"

"Well.. no.. I saw them, though. What are they?"

"Oh, Dave. I've no right in doing this, but follow me," she instructs, leading him over to Dream's door.

Housemother motions for Techno to open said door, but he's rather hesitant. He's never seen the inside of Dream's room, and Techno doesn't particularly want to. Still, she insists, guiding his hand to the knob. Techno slowly twists it open, wincing at the sound of the door unlatching. The vintage wood squeaks as Dream's living quarters is revealed to Techno's undeserving eyes.

"What the hell?" mumbles Techno, gazing around the inside.

None of the boys have ever had a clue why Dream was given his own room on the main floor, but Techno finally understands. This place is _not_ one that he would want to live in, for Dream's room looks like a replica of a hospital room. He's got a cardiac monitor, IV stand, medical cooler, his own sink, multiple med kits hanging from the wall, and various other gadgets and gizmos Techno cannot name just from a terrified sweep of the room. Still, they all beep and blink menacingly at him.

"I'm saying nothing more, Dave. I think it's best if _you_ take it from here," Housemother simply states.

The door eerily closes just as quickly as it opened, leaving Techno feeling more rattled than he ever has before. He tries to stay calm and composed, but he's completely perplexed and incapable of channeling his feelings into words.

"Housemother?" Techno asks, his brown eyes wide with curiosity. "Am I a bad person?"

"Dave, honey. Good people make the wrong choices sometimes. It's just human nature. What makes someone 'bad', per se, is if they choose not to learn from their mistakes. Will you learn from yours?"

Techno shrugs, wrapping his hair around his fingers out of anxiety. "I don't know.. I _really_ don't know."

"And, that's fine for now. Go on upstairs and try to sleep. Your body needs to heal."

He nods, allowing Housemother to gently peck his cheek before he slinks up the steps and into his bedroom. Techno, for once in his arrogant existence, is not just thinking about his own wants or needs. No, something much more concerning and hellishly more selfish is swimming through his thoughts as he strips out of his clothes and crawls into bed.

Techno is thinking about Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this chapter was so much fun to write! So many of you have attempted to guess Dream's illness, but I have yet to see the right answer. If anyone has any others, feel free to give it a go down below! I've been doing SO MUCH research, watching countless YouTube videos, handwriting pages of notes, and memorizing things I never thought I would before. I'm unbelievably excited for what's to come. Leave me a comment if you want to! I read each and every one, for they make me smile so much! :D <3


	4. The Damage You've Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well, I wish I was a bluebird;  
> Honey, I'd just fly away.  
> And look down over my shoulder;  
> At the country down below.  
> Baby, you could make a king;  
> It wouldn't mean a thing.  
> Compare the damage.
> 
> The damage you've done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4! Could things become even more tumultuous for our rival boys? Read to find out, and enjoy! :)

The soft crackle of radio static crawls across bare skin, kissing unreachable areas with euphoric tenderness. Satin sheets welcome the waves and adhere them to split ends that should have been trimmed weeks ago. Shimmering slants of amber light up caramel eyes, pupils quivering in the sun's illumination. Chipped polish painted on bruised fingertips shines with saliva to smooth out recently plucked eyebrows, arching above the pools of river water. Cracked lips part to take in shallow breathes of the radio waves that untangle distant dreams of melatonin-induced sleep.

How everything does feel so candied today.. until Techno tries to move.

"Oh, holy shit, fuck, god!" his scratchy voices belts.

Techno's pulsating wounds cry at every notion of movement. His scalp aches with clumps of lost hair as his neck begs for relief from nail-shaped marks lining his trachea.. and not the good kind. The all too familiar taste of metallic milk spills from his left nostril, rapidly retreating down the side of his cheek before soaking into the sheets. Techno tries to wipe it away, but the ruby red just keeps on pouring.

"Well, that surely can't be normal.."

The twenty minute process of carefully pivoting each joint just to make the climb from the bed to the floor is entirely too painful for the aged overnight pinkette. Techno's feeling quite reminiscent of his eighties, though he's rather far from those days of retirement. Honestly, he doesn't imagine he'll even make it that far, for there are way too many people Techno pisses off on the daily to live past an assassination in his mid-thirties. He's fine with it, as long as people remember his name.

Once the mirror above Wilbur's dresser finally can reflect the image of Techno, he nearly gasps at how much worse he looks today. Every area of his face is discolored and swollen to varying degrees. Of course, he still sees himself as the beautiful motherfucker he has been all of his life, but the abrasions don't do him many favors. One burnt cheek has turned into a boxer's mug with feminine charm and masculine cut.

"Hey, you're finally awake," Karl announces, glancing up from Wilbur's bed.

"Karl?!" exclaims Techno, nearly jumping out of his skin. "What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be at school?"

Karl sits up, yawning while stretching his arms above his head. "I didn't wanna leave you alone today. Housemother mentioned you came back last night. Are you mad?"

"No, no, of course not. I just wish you didn't have to see me like this.."

The brunette crosses the room to stand right in front of Techno, hair messy from slumber and eyes just as beautifully down set as normal. He smiles, reaching a hand up to cup Techno's cheek and wipe away the pooling blood with his thumb. Techno instinctively leans into the touch, though Karl is shorter than him by a decent amount.

"You don't have to feel nervous around me. You're like my best friend, Techno. You get what I'm saying?"

"I think so." Techno slowly guides himself to his closet to pull a tee over his bare chest. "Who do you think Dream goes to in situations like these?"

Karl raises an eyebrow. "No one, probably. He doesn't exactly have friends."

"True. I shouldn't feel bad about his lack of friends, should I?"

The older opens the door for Techno, ambling alongside him as he begins to regain feeling in his tortured limbs. "Why are you so concerned about Clay Dream?"

"I'm not!" Techno defensively exclaims, glaring at Karl. "He's a nothing nobody, and I'm a something somebody."

"Don't let him make you tick. After what he did yesterday, I can only imagine what you're planning to do to him next. Break his leg? Hire a hitman? Sell his vital organs on eBay? There are so many options!" Karl muses.

Techno coldly nods. "So many. Mind if I catch up with you in a moment? I need to call my dad."

"Take your time! I'll be in Alex and I's room."

As Karl scampers off, Techno begins the journey down the staircase. The house is eerily quiet without the sounds of a dozen teenage boys echoing off its walls. The groans and creaks of the old structure follow Techno's footsteps as he scouts out the common room and then the kitchen, not looking for a phone, no, but rather looking for his equally as suspended counterpart in yesterday's painful brawl. Dream seems to be nowhere in sight, though.

"Dave! Good morning, sunshine. I need a favor from you," Housemother greets, as Techno rounds the foyer again. "Since you're suspended, I'm giving you a task."

Techno hesitantly closes in on her. "What kind of task?"

"A good-natured one. In about an hour, I'm going to need you to drive into the city and pick up Clay. I'll even let you take my car."

"What?! No way! Why would I do that?"

She folds her arms across her chest and answers, "Because you're in trouble, and I have other things to do."

Techno sighs. "Why can't he drive himself?"

"Oh, kid. There is a reason for everything, you know. All I ask is that you obey me so I don't have to call Phil and let him know about your lack of cooperation.."

"Fine, fine! Whatever.." Techno feels the heat pound within his cheeks as he asks, "Where am I picking the delinquent up from, exactly?"

Housemother's expression falters ever-so-slightly before she forces it back up. "The hospital."

And, Techno knows he's in for quite the experience today.

~

The city bustles with vibrant life, something Techno doesn't necessarily appreciate this early in the morning. He hasn't been off campus in a hot minute, but driving Housemother's car to pick up his sworn enemy from the hospital isn't how Techno imagined his first visit back would go. He sighs while veering into the parking garage underneath the towering building, his internal disdain becoming rather palpable.

"He's gonna have a fucking cow when he sees me," Techno mutters, slamming the car door as he begins the stroll inside. "I'd have a cow if I saw me.. I'm beautiful! Usually.."

Techno rubs his aching jaw while positioning his gumdrop pink hair over each shoulder. His scalp was far too tender to do his hair this morning, so after a quick detangle with his bamboo hairbrush, he threw on his purple trench coat, a pair of silver boots with a three inch heel, and a smaller septum ring to take some of his pain away. If it weren't for his agony and general disliking of humankind, Techno would almost be feeling himself today.

The pinkette hides his bruised face behind strands of hair as he wanders his way through the first floor and to where Housemother told Techno that Dream would be waiting. Sitting at the very back of the crowded cafeteria is little Dream, sipping a juice box and half-leaning against the concrete wall next to him. His sandy hair is messy, and his face is just as purple and red as Techno's. The older breathes in and out heavily before striding over to Dream's bench.

"We don't have all day. Let's hit the road," demands Techno, snapping in Dream's face.

Dream's green orbs double in size. "What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

"Housemother wanted me to pick you up. Are you coming, or what?"

The blonde has to hold his stomach as he shakily stands, trying to seem as composed as possible. Still, the unkemptness of his hair and deep bags under his eyes give it all away that he's not doing so hot. Techno begins pacing for the door at which he came, Dream following closely behind.

"What did she tell you? What do you know?" he asks, frantically.

"I know nothing, and frankly, I don't really care either. I'm just mad that I'm not the one that put you here. Hurry up, now!"

Dream chases after him. "Why you, of all creatures?"

"Part of my punishment. Trust me, I didn't want this. I can barely stand to be this close to you.."

"There's nothing wrong with me, by the way. I'm not sick or anything. I don't want you getting some sick and twisted fantasy about who I am. I'm strong, Techno. Stronger than you by a longshot."

Techno stops in his tracks and snaps around. "Are you deaf? I don't care. The only thing I care about is getting our English midterm completed. Then, we don't have to pretend to cooperate."

The younger purses his lips. "Fine. Can we get something to eat before heading home? I haven't eaten in days."

"Sounds like a you problem," Techno groans, fishing Housemother's keys from his pocket. "But, I'm hungry too, so whatever. We need to pick what piece of literature we'll be researching and presenting to the damned class."

The two boys, at least eight feet apart at all times, begin heading toward the parking garage, the rest of the amble taken in completely silence. Techno knows exactly where they'll go to have breakfast, merely a few miles from the hospital. The radio blares to life as soon as Techno starts the car, but Dream's expression turns sour rather quickly.

_"Last dance with Mary Jane; one more time to kill the pain. I feel summer creepin' in, and I'm tired of this town again..."_

Dream quickly changes the station and recoils in his seat, much to the delight of Techno. "What, don't like Tom Petty?"

"No. Too washed up."

Techno smirks to himself, merging onto the highway with the grace of a young fencer. "Agreed."

~

Techno watches in mild disgust and unrelenting curiosity as Dream scarfs down a stack of chocolate chip waffles, smothered in maple syrup and butter, and chased down with hefty gulps of strawberry milk. The syrup glistens against his lips, trailing a line from his drinking glass to his mouth. Techno hasn't even begun to touch his over easy eggs and toast in front of him, for he's too caught up in the train wreck that's unfolding in front of him.

"Are you going to eat your bacon?" Dream asks, his most recent bite of waffle tucked into one cheek in order to talk.

"Have at it. I don't believe in eating pigs."

Dream sneers. "Not into cannibalism, huh?"

"Funny," hisses Techno.

The younger sticks his syrupy fork into Techno's thin strips of bacon and immediately begins tearing into the protein. Sure, he's a runner than needs to constantly dine in all of the food groups to keep up his energy and toned physique, but even this is slightly too pitiful for comfort. Techno almost regrets stealing his breakfast earlier in the week, for if he hadn't, there is a strong chance he wouldn't be forced to watch this queasy mess..

"So, what book should we do our project on?"

Techno has to ponder this one. "I dunno, honestly. You're a nerd; what's your favorite book?"

"I don't read as often as I used to.." Dream sets down his utensils and narrows his gaze at Techno. "My mother used to read to me a lot."

"Before or after she died?" Techno questions.

Dream rolls his eyes. "Not cool. What's the story of your mommy, huh? I don't ever hear anything about Mrs. Blade."

"If you must know, she walked out on us to go live a lush life with her new beau."

"Now, that's hilarious." Dream leans forward, his plethora of freckles becoming more enticing to Techno's sick eyes. "I guess that _starts_ to explain why you're a major fuckwad."

The pinkette balances his chin on his dainty, yet strong, fist and sticks out his pierced tongue. Dream's eyes immediately glue to the ring he hadn't managed to mess with yesterday. He looks as though he might reach out and touch it, so Techno reels his tongue back in and crinkles his nose at Dream. Techno hates how pretty he is, even behind bruises and blemishes.

"You should feel flattered. You're the only kid in school I actively despise."

Dream shrugs. "You don't even have a decent reason to hate me. Meanwhile, I have a thousand and one to hate you."

"Get over yourself. No one in the house even likes you.."

"I didn't _ask_ to come to this shithole! You think I'd want that? No. No way in hell. My foster parents just wanted to get rid of me, a burden off their hands so they can soak up income from the government while I fend for myself in a place full of the most plastic people I've ever met. You're not special, Techno Blade. You never will be."

They both exchange looks of passionate disdain, and if it weren't for what Techno had seen last night, he would reach across the table and begin choking Dream. The younger's eyes soften as he realizes Techno isn't going to retaliate. Instead, he looks down at his perfect eggs, yolks glimmering in the happiest shade of yellow to ever grace this earth, and pokes into a fat one to drain its life away. Dream, too, continues eating, almost as if their haughty exchange was all a nightmare.

"So, why were you at the hospital today?" Techno finally asks, unable to mask his curiosity. "I feel as though I have a right to know since I had to waste me precious time in retrieving you."

Dream doesn't look up as he stirs the syrup around on his plate. "Uh, I have a blood transfusion every three weeks. No biggie."

"No biggie? That sounds like a biggie. Why is that?"

The brunette slams his fork to the porcelain plate and demands, "Drop it! You're the last person I'd give private details of my life to, 'kay? Now, what are we doing our project on?"

Techno's monotone expression remains as he says, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm all you've got right now. Might as well get used to it."

"Even then, I still would much rather have nobody at all." Dream purses his lips, clearly having lost all will to finish his breakfast. "Project?"

The older mimics his pose, though he doesn't feel nearly as confident while doing it. Dream _should_ be groveling at Techno's feet right about now, feeling overwhelmed by how honored he is to have Techno in his presence for the coming weeks. Still, his expression remains as cold as ever, and Techno wonders if it's just who he is as a person or if the pinkette has molded him into this. He doesn't want to pry and push any further with Dream, for they've a lot to discuss before leaving for Boarding House 7.

Their punishment is just beginning.

~

"Hey," Techno says, as Dream begins to walk up the stoop of their shared home. "I, uh.. I would like to apologize for.. for uh locking you in that closet.."

Dream turns around, sandy locks glistening in afternoon light. Techno's standing at the base of the porch, lips pursed together as he squints up at the runner in front of him. Though they are so close in physical proximity, worlds separate them. Their morning together heavily proved that, for they could barely talk for three seconds about school before things fell off into uncivil insults and general prodding.

"So, do it. Apologize to me."

Techno begins to run his fingers through his hair to calm himself down. "I'm sorry. A little bit."

"How humble of you. I'm sorry for burning you with a potato," Dream replies, his face showing little remorse.

"What about for breaking my sabre? That's the worst thing you could have done to me, you know."

The blonde sighs, looking down at his green Converse and pawing a rock with his toes. "Techno, I didn't break your precious Delilah."

"What?! You're such a fucking liar! I saw her, all bent and broken in two, right in front of your bedroom door. Do you think I'm stupid?!" Techno shouts, getting all up in Dream's face.

"God, you're so stuck in your own head!" Dream counteracts, shoving Techno from the stoop. "I took the blame for one of _your_ friends. The entire time you've sought to destroy me, I've just been trying to be a good housemate and respect your guys' decision to hate me and alienate me. But, when someone here desperately needed _my_ help, I stepped up, even though I knew it would bite me in the ass. And, it did come back to bite me, Techno Blade. It fucking did."

Techno's sore jaw falls open as he soaks up this new reality. Why would one of his own friends try to sabotage him to such an extent? None of this makes sense to his selfish mind, especially when the door to the house abruptly opens and cherry-cheeked boys all rush Techno to pull at his hair and interlace hands. Dream stands back, watching the whole scene unfold with a sickened look on his discolored face. Techno locks eyes with him, and for the first time, they seem to have an understanding.

"Techno! We missed you so much at school today. Lunch is boring without you. Do you want to play Minecraft with us?" Tubbo asks, hanging off his arm.

Fundy perkily nods, crinkling his nose as he collects the pretty pink waterfalls of hair in his long fingers. "Please, please, please? Tommy and Wilbur are establishing a government in our SMP."

"Shh!" scolds Bad, placing a finger over his lips. "You know how Techno feels about the government.."

"Uh, thanks and all, but I actually have somewhere to be. Raincheck?"

His twin frowns. "Where are you off to?"

Dream crosses his arms and leans against a column. "Now, this, I'd like to hear.."

"Oh, hey, Dream. When did you get home?" George asks, breaking from the group to talk to just him. "Do you want to play Minecraft with us?"

Sapnap pulls him back into their circle. "Gogy, what are you doing? You know better.."

"But.. Techno isn't playing, so I thought-"

"You _all_ know better," Dream mumbles, beginning to amble inside. "I'm going to lie down."

The soft energy of their reunion is sucked from the boys as they all exchange awkward glances, left in the wake of George's pained interaction with the house outcast. Techno's stomach suddenly aches far more than it did when he vomited yesterday during his fight with Dream. These are his friends, right? One of them sabotaged him, and Techno is entirely unsure which of them is the traitor. Could George's boyish crush on the mystery man be a good enough reason to try and ruin Techno's life? No, surely not. Who _would?_

"So, where exactly _are_ you going?" Wilbur pries again, trying to ease the tension.

Techno half-smiles. "I'm meeting with a new friend."

The group of kids look at each other with confusion, but it soon turns to acceptance as they shrug, nod, and begin heading back inside. For the first time in Techno's life, he feels alone. Is this how Dream feels? Techno has spent the entire schoolyear trying to shut out Dream of all social interaction, and it's effectively worked. Now that he has a taste of this lonesome life of dire hate, his heart has gone sour.

Techno sluggishly wanders inside the boarding house, grimacing at Dream's door and making the rash decision to rush over and give a swift knock. It takes a few too many seconds for his door to crack open, those piercing eyes of lime peel nectar watching him rather intently. Techno bites down on his bottom lip while pressing his way into Dream's room. Much to the older's surprise, Dream doesn't stop him from stepping inside.

"Hey, Dream?" Techno asks, hesitantly placing his hand against Dream's chest and rubbing his fingers along the distinctive tubing. "What is that?"

Dream's eyes stay locked on his. "It's called a central venous catheter. It's how I get my triweekly blood transfusions and various medications."

"Can I see?"

The blonde lowers himself to the foot of his bed, just the same kind that one would expect to find in a hospital. The mattress is thin and unsupportive, as it is held up on an adjustable bedframe that moves up and down with the remote sticking out of its side. There are guardrails on both sides, the IV stand nestled against the right one. Dream pulls his shirt off and lays down on the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling as Techno studies him.

"Isn't it atrocious?" Dream murmurs, planting his hands at his sides.

Techno leans over Dream, hair caressing against his bare skin. The thin, white, plastic tubing extends from the inside cavity of the left side of Dream's chest, looping up and back around, held to his skin with clear tape. Two lumens, clamped shut by even more intricate plastic pieces, are capped in red and blue, the very hints of color Techno spied last night.

"I think it's interesting." Techno traces the loop of tubing with his pointer finger. "How does it work, exactly?"

"The tube penetrates into my chest and feeds through one of my veins, directly into my heart. There's a huge needle in my heart that allows my medication to be fed to the source."

The pinkette, towering over Dream, holds firm eye contact. "And, what would happen if I pulled it out?"

Dream looks down at his chest and smirks at Techno's fingers, holding one of the lumens rather firmly above his skin. "I would probably die."

"Good to know. I'm leaving now, Clay Dream."

The blonde immediately hops up from his bed and grabs Techno's arm before he can exit the room. They share one of those strained gazes for the millionth time today as Dream's fingertips dig into Techno's wrist. Dream and Techno are natural enemies, both hotheaded and uncaring, powerful and strong in their own, different ways. Nothing about their understanding could ever lead to something more, and Techno is perfectly fine with that.

"Aren't you going to prod at me? Demand to know what ails me? Make fun of me? Anything? I don't like that you're not.." Dream admits, tightening his grip on Techno's wrist. "Anything but pity.."

"I'd never pity you for your sickness, Dream. There are plenty of other things, better things, to pity you for. And, you don't have to tell me. I won't make you, and I won't hold it against you. I may be a sour bitch of hatred and revenge, but I'm not going to grant myself the upper hand because you are ill."

Techno pulls himself from Dream's grip and begins exiting the mock hospital room. As soon as he hears the door close behind him, Techno picks up his speed. He doesn't feel right anymore, and hell, maybe he never has. The echoes of laughter from the common room make him feel like he's on the verge of puking his guts out. Life was so much simpler when the only thing he wanted was the downfall of Clay Dream, but now, he feels like he's on the outside of his own life. Techno is supposed to be the prettiest boy, the most popular boy, the boy with fame and clout, the boy with no emotional ties, the boy with no damn care to give, so what's changed?

Well, in short, everything.

He pulls his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans and decides to do something rather stupid. Techno's head isn't exactly screwed on as tight as usual right about now, so he might as well make as many mistakes as he can before everything comes crashing down. Nothing good lasts forever, after all.

 _TECHNO: free for those private "fencing" lessons in ur room??_  
_SCHLATT: knew you'd come around. ;) boarding house 2. i'll be waiting, pretty pink._  
_TECHNO: leaving now._

Techno takes a deep breath, hand on the doorknob, and prepares to let himself out. Before he can set even one foot on the opposite side of the door, footsteps startle him into turning around.

"Wait up! Where are we going?" Karl happily asks, his eyes sparkling with hope.

"Uh, I'm going alone, actually. It's kind of private.."

Karl takes both of his hands. "I don't mind. I love you, Techno."

"Karl.."

The older's smile begins to fade as he questions, "You don't want me to come..?"

"It's not that.. If you must know, I'm meeting with someone for.. scandalous.. activities. Don't you just want to go play Minecraft with the boys?"

"What?! You're taking a honking booty call?! I thought.. What about.. Techno!" Karl lets go of his hands, seemingly deeply upset by this. "Why?!

Techno furrows his eyebrows. "I don't understand why you're so troubled. Am I not allowed to make my own decisions?"

"No, Techno. Do whatever you want. Just forget it.. Forget everything!"

Karl runs back up the stairs, not even glancing at Techno as he storms down the hall, far out of his sight. Techno can't make ends meet with Karl's odd behavior, even though he's always been his biggest supporter. As if today couldn't get any worse, Techno seems to have lost the one person that doesn't share his blood that he trusts more than anyone else in the world. He truly is suffering from a case of abandonment.

Techno could wait around forever, trying to put back together the pieces of his perfect life that seemed to have come undone, but Schlatt is waiting. Instead of going after Karl, Techno slips out of the door and begins the walk straight into his inevitable doom. Oddly enough, the very thing at the front of Techno's mind isn't his odd interaction with his best friend, the fact that one of his closest allies is a traitor, or that he's about to hook up with the school's bad boy, no. Techno can only picture Dream's bare chest with the thin tubes trailing down his right peck.

Who is Techno Blade becoming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read my comments, I know I said I planned on revealing Dream's illness in this chapter, but I didn't feel that Techno and Dream were ready for such a big step yet. As many have asked, I do not have an update schedule since I'm in school, but I do try my best to post the next chapter between 2-5 days after my most recent one. Also, I've just made a Twitter account for the purpose of announcing updates, showing off the lovely fan art y'all have made for me, and everything else! Follow me, @ phantomsunsets, if you want to keep in touch, have any questions/theories, or want to know how far along I am on the next chapter. Leave me a comment if you'd like! I love them all so much! <3


	5. Flirting With Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This could well be your last stand;  
> Hold the sunlight in your hand.  
> Spread your fingers, feel the sand fall through;  
> I've done all I can do.
> 
> Now, it's up to you...
> 
> You're flirting with time, baby.  
> Flirting with time, but maybe;  
> Time, baby, is catching up with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5! So sorry this one took me quite a hot minute to get out, but school was killer this week. This installment takes place in Dream's POV, so it's ~extra~ special. Please enjoy!! :)

**Dream's POV**

There is something so oddly comforting about routine, no matter how painful that the set of everyday steps, robotic and second nature, can be. Dream's phone buzzes somewhere deep within his sheets, no doubt having spent another night staring at the gleaming screen in the pure darkness until he fell asleep with it trapped somewhere in his mess of blankets and pillows. By the time he manages to find the damned thing, two minutes have already passed. How beautiful it is to be awake at 5:00 A.M. every single day for the rest of forever.. however long Dream's "forever" may be.

Dream pushes sandy shags from his forehead damp with nightmare sweat, the kind that binds to the skin like frost and spreads from vein to vein. He massages his lanky fingers into his temples while sitting up in bed and searching for the lamp. This is his life, and Dream _should_ be used to waking up this early, but it never gets easier. Lazily draping his knees over the guardrail of his bed feels slightly too monotonous as Dream eases himself out of his boxers and tee.

Completely naked, Dream saunters into his connecting bathroom, the only one in the house that shares a door with someone's bedroom. His reflection in the mirror over the sink seems a little less blue and purple today, but it'll be a week or two before he's back to looking normal. Dream eyes himself in the reflective glass, playing connect the dots with his freckles as he brushes his teeth. A handful of cold water splashed directly in his face helps to wake him up a bit more. Ah, life..

"Here we go again," Dream mutters, ambling back into his bedroom.

The blonde's green orbs gaze around his room in search of a clean pair of boxers, the only essential clothing item in his upcoming process of two very tedious hours. Dream sits down on the foot of his bed while ripping open the protective plastic on a set of primary tubing, specially made to connect to his double lumen central venous catheter. The fact that such a thing exists for a freak of nature like Dream makes him almost smile. After Dream untangles the sterile tubing, he retrieves a two-hundred milliliter bag of saline from his medical cooler and connects the two together.

"What would happen if I drank this instead of feeding it into my chest? Save it for another day, Dream.. Today's too important to fuck with.."

Dream hangs the bag on his IV stand and squeezes the cylindrical drip chamber directly below the bag until it's halfway full of saline. Once it begins dripping just like the name suggests, Dream unclamps the main piece of tubing and lets the saline fill the entire line. He allows it to fall to the ground while turning his focus to his most complicated contraption, the infusion pump.

"God, Techno's right.." admits Dream, caressing the buttons on the pump. "I'm such a nerd for knowing how to program this thing."

His skilled fingertips find the on button without even having to look. As soon as the device, which resembles an ancient computer, boots up, Dream selects "IV Fluids" from the long list of plausible liquids to fill his veins with. Dream then sets the rate in which the saline will flow to: one-hundred milliliters per hour, which begins the two hour long process of infusing sodium chloride and medication into his port. Once one end of the tubing is hooked into the infusion pump's channel door, Dream cracks his knuckles and readies himself.

Dream turns to the sink installed on the wall just for him in order to thoroughly wash his hands. Inside his medical cart, he takes out two syringes of sodium chloride, two syringes of heparin, four gauze pads in protective paper, and five alcohol wipes. He uses one of the wipes to clean off his bedside pull-out table, the main surface used for Dream's work. An extra large latex glove pulls over each hand before Dream unpacks all of his equipment and lays everything out in front of him.

"All right, time for business."

The blonde uncaps all four syringes and pushes out the air bubble that's gathered at the tip from being stored. He takes the wipes and lays one on each gauze pad before unscrewing the plastic pieces on each lumen that stop foreign bodies from entering his system. Fifteen is the magic number of seconds when it comes to scrubbing the lumens until they're perfectly sterile. Dream takes a syringe of sodium chloride first, connecting it to his red lumen, unclamping the tube, and carefully, slowly, _calmly_ flushing the line with the solution. He does the same for his blue lumen with the other syringe and then repeats with the heparin, important in stopping the formation of blood clots in his catheter.

Once Dream is perfectly flushed, he scrubs the the lumens yet again with another set of gauzes and wipes. He reaches back into the medical cart for a syringe each of his two daily medications. His red port is for medicine that reduces pain crises, and the blue port is meant for an improvement solution for his blood disorder. When Dream has an especially torturous pain crisis, he flushes his line and connects a supply of morphine to the red port. Those days are the ones Dream fears the most.

He shakes away the oncoming tremors while screwing on a plastic connector to each lumen, fitted with two entry ways. Dream grabs at the primary tubing set he prepped beforehand and attaches one end to each double entry cap. Before hitting the start button on the infusion pump, Dream screws each syringe of medication into the caps as well and takes in a deep breath. This is only the beginning of his long and boring morning of medicating. Lovely.

Dream dreads the sound of the infusion pump coming to life with a hefty groan and thrum. Starting with his red lumen, Dream begins to push the medication into the line where the saline is flowing in order to infuse the two liquids together. After the red is done, he does the same with the blue. He lets the plastic syringes hang against his chest while the saline keeps flowing, for disrupting the process is one of the easiest ways to fuck up everything. They can stay there like the eyesores they are for the next couple of hours.

"Well, I suppose this could be worse. I could have three lumens.."

Dream discards his gloves and all of the packaging he went through just for his daily medication intake. After the two hours are up, he'll go through another round of sodium chloride and heparin before capping his lumens and hiding his central venous catheter under his shirt, not eluding to the fact that he's incredibly different from everyone else at this school. In twelve hours, Dream will once again flush his line and clean the lumens. Having a device like this in his chest is revolutionary, yes, but the upkeep is sometimes way too much to deal with. One wrong move, and he's dying in a hospital bed of a serious bacterial infection.

While his medication infuses, Dream turns his attention to the clipboard hanging on his wall. He wets a pen with the tip of his tongue and scrawls out the date. He'll need to record his blood pressure, heart rate, and temperature just like he does everyday. Maintaining such a condition is hellishly boring for a teenager like Dream, but this is what he's used to. Administering his medication is the only stability Dream has, so he'll always try his best to cherish these strenuous moments.

Sickle cell anemia doesn't let its claws detach from Dream's flustered skin for even a second, and it never will.

After Dream has finished the soul-destroying act of recording his vitals, his ears prick up at the sound of movement from outside of his door. He grabs ahold of his portable IV stand and, still connected to the saline tubes and infusion pump like a lab rat experiment gone wrong, moves toward the parlor. Dream peeks through the crack in his door with the only goal in mind of spotting the culprit before the culprit spots him. Too bad those brown eyes are already transfixed on his.

"Techno..?" Dream asks, stepping into the darkened hall. "What are you doing up this early?"

He can tell by the pinkette's expression that he seems rather startled to see Dream, especially in such a vulnerable state. There he stands, nude except for that pair of plaid boxers and a plethora of medical plastic hanging from his chest. Techno, on the other hand, looks completely disheveled. His long hair is a rat's nest, and the clothing on his slender form is all crumpled, some buttons in the wrong holes and some buttons just there for show. It's clear he's had an _interesting_ night.

"I could ask the same of you, but I won't.."

Dream rolls his eyes. "It's clear what I'm doing. Are those yesterday's clothes?"

"Shut your mouth," Techno gripes, making a break for the staircase.

"Hey, stop! I'm not judging you for your extra curricular activities. Wait, no. I am."

Techno lowers himself to the bottom step, head in hands. "What's it to you, huh? Lower your voice before Housemother and Housefather wake up.."

"Your minions vouched for you at dinner. Said you had a headache and went to bed early. Perhaps you'll tell me what you actually were up to?" suggests Dream.

The older snickers. "My business is the furthest thing from yours. Why don't you scamper on back to your room to finish whatever nightmare you've got yourself trapped in?"

"What, don't like the syringes?" Dream tilts his head toward the infusion pump. "I'm gonna be hooked to this for the next couple of hours. You could at _least_ entertain me with a story."

Techno lazily reaches up to touch one of the empty syringes. "What're they used for, huh? Entertain me instead."

Dream sits on the step next to him and places the main piece of tubing into Techno's hand while saying, "This tube right here connects to everything: the saline bag to the drip chamber to both lumens to my medication syringes. Without it, I'd be nothing. Neat, huh?"

"Sure. Does it.. hurt?"

"I feel nothing, the same as when you receive medication through an IV in your elbow." Dream swiftly pokes the inner part of Techno's nearest elbow to mimic a prick. "The waiting is the hardest part."

Those brown eyes narrow as Techno comments, "Sounds like a drag."

"It is. Now, tell me about your night in paradise. Who was the lucky one?"

Techno sucks in both cheeks. "Johnathan Schlatt. Just needed a pick me up, that's all."

Dream begins to fiddle with his port out of pure nervousness. This habit has landed him with an irritated rash in the past, but it always beckons him to pull and twist just for the hell of it. His catheter isn't just an implant, no, for it's another one of his organs. In fact, Dream can barely remember what life was like without it. No matter what has changed in his life, the people that have come and gone, the scenery that has blossomed and faded, his condition has remained, and so has that damned catheter.

"Techno.." Dream stops himself, gazing at Techno's side profile in the dim lighting and taking in the healing scars spreading across the apples of his cheeks and jaw. His heavy lidded eyes are fixated on something too far away for anyone in this reality to see. "Techno, you look.."

"Look what? Spit it out!" Techno demands, facing him with a grimace.

The blonde purses his lips. "Techno, you look a little broken."

"You've no idea who you're talking to.."

"Techno-"

The older abruptly stands up. "Techno, Techno, Techno! Do you know any other words?"

Dream joins him in the upright position, a flush of rouge to his facial features. "How'd you get the nickname Techno anyways?"

"Wilbur lovingly dubbed me Techno in our childhood." Techno's tense shoulders loosen a little as he meets Dream's eyes once again. "What about you? Calling one by their last name seems so trivial.."

He lets out a good-natured chuckle, gaze flitting back to the infusion pump. "It's the one thing I have left of my parents. Like a keepsake, y'know?"

"Yeah.. Sure.. What happened to them, exactly?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You as well.. Not that I care about your life."

"Not that I care about yours either."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Their eyes meet again, Techno huffing immediately. "You make me feel unimaginably livid."

"Why is that?" Dream asks, a hint of a smile forming on his sharp lips.

Techno matches the expression. "Because you're just as bull-headed as me. Are we done here? You're leaving a bad taste in my mouth."

"I think that taste may be Schlatt.."

Dream has to dodge an incoming smack, clutching the syringes so as not to hook them on something and accidentally rip his heart out. Techno refrains from going in again, but Dream can tell he wants to. With presumed defeat, Techno begins to head on upstairs, no doubt to indulge in a few hours of real sleep. Being suspended may allow Techno to rest into the late hours of the morning, but Dream doesn't have access to that type of luxury.. not when there are sickle-shaped blood cells dying within his veins.

"Techno, one minute," utters Dream, heading back inside of his room and fetching the small book he's been keeping inside the empty cabinet of his medical cart. "The piece of literature I want to do our project on."

Techno eyes the forest green cover, hesitantly taking it from his hands. "Okay, _Lord of the Flies._ What's this one about again?"

"A group of boys. The two main ones' incapability to see past blind hate creates the downfall of their own nation, resulting in murder and a fight for power. What do you think?"

The pinkette licks his lips. "Life sure as shit imitates art all right. I'll think about it."

Dream watches as Techno opens the cover of the novel that has been circling for decades, a staple of classic literature that every book buff should read at least once in their lifetime. A beautiful story, one so tragic and deadly, sits very close to Dream's mangled heart. Techno's eyes shift across the inside cover, soaking in the handwritten note and then looking up to Dream once again. His pupils quiver as that piggy nose of his indignantly twitches.

"To Clay, my little daydream. Mama will love you forever."

~  
  
The crunch of gravel underneath fiery feet. Heart and mind pounding in synchronized agony. Cold sweat stringing blurry eyes. The sound of rapid breathing and pounding temples. Dream's body pumps with adrenaline as he pushes himself farther, faster, and more painfully than ever before. His muscles cry out, tightening as he desperately tries to coast on one last boost of energy. Blonde bangs shield his minimalistic field of vision, and unable to take any more of this strain, Dream has to _force_ himself to stop running.

Dream keels over, hands on his knees as he takes in short, raspy breathes. His back arches even further in the air as Dream begins to choke on the lack of air in his unreliable lungs. He tries as hard as he can to keep himself from admitting defeat to his illness, but Dream is merely a pawn for his own body's needs. Gagging, Dream grips at his stomach as watery blood comes spilling from his rouge lips. The track becomes splattered in brilliant red as he violently coughs out the remnants of his most recent blood transfusion.

The blonde falls to the rough ground now, fumbling through his bag propped up against the fence for his precious piece of red plastic. As soon as the inhaler finds its way into his hand, Dream attempts to clear the blood from his mouth with a hefty spit before breathing in his medication. The relief hits almost immediately, like a boulder being lifted off of his ribcage. Dream takes in as much as oxygen as he can while wiping the blood from his face and trying to focus his weary eyes on the watch clutched to his wrist.

It's time.

"Clay! Clay, hurry up! The car's running!" shouts Housemother, from the parking lot outside of the fence.

Dream tosses his backpack over one shoulder, jogging over to her. "Sorry, Housemother. I got really caught up today.."

"I can tell. You don't look too well. Are you coming down with something?" She plants her tiny wrist against his sweaty forehead. "Hmm.. A bit warm."

"Just from the sun; don't worry. I'm doing mighty fine," he insists.

Housemother nods, pulling out of the lot. "I'm having Dave pick you up again."

"What?! Don't tell me this is gonna become a regular thing.."

"Oh, come on. How bad can it possibly be? You need the social interaction."

Dream rolls his eyes and rests his temple against the window. "I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"I know, Clay. It can't hurt, though."

Neither of them attempts to make idle conversation during the rest of the drive, for Dream is too focused on what's to come. After his phone call with his foster mother the other night, he's not feeling as strong as his real mother would want him to. The world is trying so desperately hard to tear his flesh from his bones. How much longer can Dream hold on before he gives up? The blood smeared across his lips indicates that his breakdown is on the horizon..

Dream delicately waves Housemother goodbye before stepping out of her car and into the clinic that has become his other home, third only to the hospital and Boarding House 7. The second he steps foot into the sterile-scented reception area of blinding fluorescents and general sorrow, he's ushered into a nearby room where the infamous Dr. Astor sits typing away at his laptop. The black hair on his head is cropped close to his scalp, showing off every thinking line he's acquired over his years of practicing medicine. Dream wonders if he, himself, will live long enough for wrinkles to etch into his young face.

"Clay, good to see you," Dr. Astor greets, without lifting his eyes from the screen. "I assume your mother has passed on the information I relayed to her?"

 _"Foster_ mother, actually. And, yes," corrects Dream, sitting in the chair across from him.

His thin lips attempt a smile. "Right, my mistake. You look a mess, son. Don't tell me you've still been practicing for-"

"Of course, I have! Dr. Astor, getting to nationals is my _dream!_ You have to understand that."

Dr. Astor sighs, closing his laptop and matching Dream's gaze with his piercing blue eyes. "I do, but I'm a medical professional. The physical exertion you inflict onto your body is killing you just as much as your disease. I encourage all of my sickle cell patients to be active in the sense of going on a walk once a day at the most. Don't even pretend you haven't been reaping the negative effects of what you're doing.."

Dream wipes at his face to make sure all the blood is gone. "Well, sure, it's been getting harder lately.. but I'm managing! I'm not.. not ready.. ready for.."

"You can say the word, Clay. It's not meant to be scary."

The blonde clenches his fists. "Chemotherapy. Please, I can't go through this yet. You said I had more time."

"I thought you did. The results of your last blood test were.. troubling, to say the least. Your red blood cell count has dropped fifteen percent since last time. At this rate, you'll need to be having a blood transfusion once a week to even function. Unless, that is, we get you started on chemo immediately."

"There's no other way? Please.. Nationals is so close now! I can taste it.. This is all I have, Dr. Astor. My parents are gone, I'm friendless and alone, and I can barely think about my disease without puking my guts out. I need to run, Dr. Astor. I need it to live."

The aging man clasps his hands on the desk in front of him and clears his throat. "I'm sorry, Clay. If you keep pushing back your treatment, you may not outlive your teens."

"But.."

"No buts. Your condition is serious, and I want to make sure you have another healthy twenty years on this earth."

Dream has to chuckle at this. Twenty years? That's all he is deserving of? Most people at his age are hopeful of another eighty alive, but Dream? He'll be lucky to get.. twenty. He'll be lucky to experience even a few minutes of his days not suffering, both mentally and physically. Dream is supposed to be in his prime with a whole fucking life ahead of him, but the crescent-shaped blood cells in his veins say otherwise.

Clay Dream is dying.

~

Death. What does it mean? Leaving this life for another? Ultimate paradise? Eternal Fire? Purgatory? Or, perhaps the most horrifying option, nothing at all? Dream thinks about this a lot. Not that he wants to, no, but rather that life hasn't given him much else to ponder. His parents suffered the fate of death, cold arms grasping them as one and leaving him to discover the truth behind such a question. Where will Dream go when he dies?

Well, he doesn't have time to think more on this today, for Housemother's car is rounding the corner, silver paint reflecting the golden hour's shimmer. Dream fixes his posture and massages his fingertips into his stiff neck. He needs to pretend that everything is fine. He can't let his worst enemy know that he is on the cusp of explosion. No, Dream mustn't act out of the ordinary.

"Get in, bitch," Techno demands, tires squealing as he stops alongside the curb Dream is perched on.

The blonde slides into the passenger's seat. "Hey."

"Yeah, hey. How'd it go? They schedule a date for your personality transplant yet?"

Dream tries to smile, tries to think of a witty comeback, tries to let this comment get under his skin, tries to play it cool, tries to hold everything inside, tries to picture a life in which he isn't knocking on Death's door.. But, he can't. And, the tears spring to his eyes immediately. Techno glances at him from the corner of his eyes as Dream's eyes glisten. Blood starts trickling from Dream's nose, mixing with salty tears and staining his face.

"Dream? Dream, what's wrong?" Techno full on ignores the road now, grimacing at the boy as he cries, hating himself for doing exactly what he said he wouldn't. "Look at me, Dream."

Techno swerves out of the lane and parks alongside the road next to the busy street. Dream can't look at him, for he's too embarrassed and in pain. In all honesty, he's greatly surprised that Techno hasn't started laughing at him or calling him what he is: a big, fat, fucking crybaby. He should be grilling the blonde for daring to cry in his presence, something Dream imagines Techno's been wanting since they first met.

"Please, don't pity me," murmurs Dream, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "Call me a bitch, hit me, spit on me, do whatever you want.. Just don't pity me."

"Listen to me, you stupid asshole. I don't pity you. Not even a little bit. I don't know what you're going through, and I'm not gonna try to understand, 'kay?" Techno clears his throat, tapping the underside of Dream's chin so that their eyes meet. "Fear can't hurt you any more than a dream."

His pupils quiver. "You.. you read _Lord of the Flies?"_ he asks, a hitch to his voice.

The pinkette nods. "Not for you, or anything. I got bored today. Suspension isn't fun."

"Right. Right, yeah. It is boring, isn't it?"

Techno huffs, gathering all of his hair into one hand and beginning to pull apart the pieces, Dream's eyes trained on the candy-colored silk. "Yeah. It doesn't have to be, though.. Maybe.. maybe we could.. watch a movie in the common room tomorrow while the boys are away. Sounds nice, right?"

"It does." Dream clenches his eyes shut and prepares himself. "I have sickle cell anemia."

A thick bout of silence fills the car, jellifying and turning Dream's bones to dust. He's never chose to admit this fact about himself to anyone else, let alone the one person he's sworn to hate and that has tried so hard to take every ounce of his humanity. Techno's only shown him pain, and Dream should fucking hate him with his entire being. Hell, he _does._ Still..

"I don't know what that means, Dream. Can you explain it to me?"

Dream rapidly blinks while nodding. "My red blood cells are misshapen, so they die much faster than normal blood cells. That's why I get triweekly blood transfusions.. But, my condition is significantly worsening.. I need chemotherapy.."

Techno's pale hand slowly creeps into his vision before the pad of his thumb wipes away the stray tears. Dream's skin screams at the feeling, internally begging for that hand to stay for a second longer. It doesn't, though. Techno's caress leaves him just as quickly as it had come.

"Chemo, huh? Your life just keeps getting worse, Dream. No offense," Techno admits.

This makes Dream giggle. "No, it's true. I won't be able to run once I start chemo or ever again afterwards.. The one thing I have, taken away. Fuck this life, man."

"Hey, don't talk like that. You're gonna keep running, okay? For as long as you can, no matter what chemicals they pump into that chest bladder of yours."

"Chest bladder? God, you're insufferable. So fucking insufferable."

The older smiles. "That's right. So are you."

Their eyes lock, just the same as they did this morning, but there is something new in both pairs of sparkling orbs. Dream cannot put his finger on what has changed, but he can sense a difference. Dream hates Techno. Techno hates Dream. And maybe, just maybe, William Golding's _Lord of the Flies_ makes yet another point.

_"They walked along, two continents of experience and feeling, unable to communicate. … They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate."_

Techno's pink lips purse into a half-smile as he puts the car back into drive. Before merging into traffic and setting off into the tangerine sun painting the sky with brilliant warmth, he extends a hand to Dream. Dream raises one eyebrow, confused and a little nervous. Still, that perfect hand, small with long fingers, bony but attractive, painted nails matching his flowing hair, stays in the air between them until Dream makes the bold decision to interlace fingers with his greatest rival ever.

Nothing more to say, they speed off, hand-in-hand, and hearts slightly warmer than they were a mere ten minutes ago. Deep within Dream's soul, he is perfectly aware that nothing could be more cosmic than _this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst! It's killer! Techno is really softening to the boy whose life he wanted to ruin just five days ago, yeah? This is only the beginning~
> 
> Congratulations to Incognito for guessing that Dream has anemia and to Mars that guessed specifically sickle cell anemia. Y'all are so amazing, and I enjoyed reading every single theory that was sent in. Also, a big thank you to Carmeminnie for giving me feedback and lovely ideas throughout my entire writing process for Chapter 5. Couldn't have done it without you! Follow me on Twitter, @ phantomsunsets, to keep up-to-date with publishing and for sneak peeks you can't get anywhere else. ;) Leave me a comment if you're feeling it! I read all of them. :D <3


	6. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's alright if you love me;  
> It's alright if you don't.  
> I'm not afraid of you runnin' away, honey;  
> I get the feeling you won't.  
> There is no sense in pretending;  
> Your eyes give you away.  
> Something inside you is feeling like I do;  
> We said all there is to say.
> 
> Baby...  
> Breakdown!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6! Sorry for the delay (Do I say this every time? Perhaps...), but both of my English classes have me writing essays ATM, so working on this chapter felt nearly impossible considering how drained I was in the word department. Still, here it is, and I'm happy! Enjoy. :)

Strong, familiar hands pull at Techno's hair with unrelenting force as the tortured pinkette sits slumped over, trying to compact himself to distract from the pain. He can feel every pore on his skull crying for relief, but those hands just tug harder in response. Techno hisses at a particularly painful yank, feeling as though his entire scalp is going to rip off any second now.

"Quit moving!" demands Wilbur, glaring at him in the wall-length mirror. "If you'd stop fidgeting, I'd have it done by now."

"Whatever! You're pulling just to pull at this point. Dontcha know I'm still sore from when Dream ripped my hair out earlier this week?"

Wilbur snickers. "Yes, brother. Calm yourself, though. I'm nearly finished."

"I think it looks quite nice," Tommy comments, running his finger along the ribbing of the braid.

Techno shoots him a look and says, "Quiet yourself. I know he was letting you pull."

Tommy and Wilbur cunningly smile at each other, to the disdain of Techno. Still, Techno is quite happy with his mirror image. The Dutch braid intertwining his pink silk speaks an air of elegance that is unattainable for anyone else on this hunk of rock. Techno would be nothing without his Greek God hair, always flowing in the breeze and catching the undeserving eyes of all that dare to gawk in his presence. He feels pretty today.

"There. All done, Techie. That wasn't so bad, huh?"

"Speak for yourself. My head is throbbing."

Tommy flops across Techno's lap. "That's just your ego trying to spill outta your eyes, bruv."

"I'll punt you.." Techno threatens.

The three brothers stand up from the floor and smooth their school clothes out. Well, Wilbur and Tommy do, anyways. Techno, on the other hand, is dressed just for the sake of dressing. He's still suspended from attending classes, so while his friends busy themselves in their respective rooms to groom themselves for the eyes of the public, Techno only does for himself.. totally _not_ anyone else that may or may not be suspended alongside him.

"Well, what are your plans for the day?" Wilbur asks, positioning Techno's braid over one shoulder.

"Mischief and malevolence. Until then, though, I have someone to talk to. Ciao, now."

Techno waves goodbye to his siblings as he steps into the hallway, adjusting his slightly _too_ cropped sweater. His belly is on full display, but since Techno isn't going to school, he doesn't mind. In fact, he feels lucky for the housemates that will catch a peek of him before they leave. Pulling his top down as far as it can go, Techno mentally prepares himself before knocking on Karl and Alex's door. Alex answers a second later, expression unusually blank.

"Did you hear?" Alex whispers, glancing into the hall.

The pinkette shakes his head. "What's the word?"

"Housemother and Housefather are having date night tonight. The place will be all ours until midnight. Are you and the other Blades prepared?"

"No doubt. Wilbur's been hitting every liquor store in the area that won't card him because he's so tall for weeks now. What about the grass?"

Alex smirks. "I've got a plug. You may have heard of him. Schlatt?"

Techno's stomach does a flip as he responds, "Uh, can't recall him. Who's putting together the playlist?"

"I'm thinking Tubbo and Ranboo? They seem to be _with it,_ as the kids say."

The older rolls his eyes. "We are the kids, Alex. Is Karl in there?"

"Yeah, he's pouty, though. You want some time alone?" questions Alex.

"That'd be great. Thanks, Alex."

He nods. "Anytime, Techno. Just, whatever you do, don't hurt him. I will track you to the ends of the earth and remove the porcelain skin from your body if any harm comes to Karl Jacobs."

"As you should. See you tonight, Alex."

Alex heads out, leaving Techno to idle in the doorway as he contemplates how to go about this. He hasn't talked to his best friend since their altercation before Techno's night with Schlatt, and frankly, Techno didn't want to be the one to give in. He misses Karl, though, and doesn't want to go another day feeling a million miles away from the one person at this school not blood related that understands him just as much as his brothers.

"What do _you_ want?" Karl asks, the purple paws of his hoodie trailing down to his knees.

"Karl, why the hostility? I don't understand what's wrong between us.."

Karl abruptly sits on his bed, glaring at the wall in front of him. "Of course, you don't! You're so blind, Techno."

"I think you're mixing me up with Gogy. I'm much taller and prettier than him," Techno declares, trying to lighten the mood.

The brunette huffs. "Go away, Techno."

"Karl!" Techno plants himself right next to his bestie. "Don't shut me out. You're my favorite person to be around, and I hate this cold energy."

"I'm sorry, Techno.. It's just.. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe my wildest dreams are stupid."

Techno furrows his eyebrows and asks, "What do you mean by that? Are you confused by your future? What to study in university? Where to go after you graduate?"

"No.. _No!_ Blind, I tell you! You're so blind. Can't you see me, Techno Blade?"

"Of course, I can. I see every ounce of you, fucking weirdo. I see your downturned eyes and brown curls and boyish smile and think, 'Wow, that guy is my precious best friend.'"

Karl avoids eye contact as he sucks on his bottom lip. "What if we were more than friends?"

The pinkette's heart stops. "Say again?"

"What if.." Karl takes in a deep breath, finally looking at Techno. "What if we were in love?"

"But, Karl.. we _aren't."_

Karl rolls his eyes. "Says you. Why aren't we?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

The older jumps up from his bed, turning to Techno with anger in his almost always soft eyes. Techno doesn't know how he should respond to such a crazy thought. Why would Karl be thinking about what their lives would be like if they were in love? It's mental! Techno is almost positive he doesn't even have the capability to fall in love to begin with. Sure, he's had partners, both romantic and sexual, but he's never had that prophesized spark that all the movies and books talk about. Does Karl have that spark for Techno? No, surely not..

"I can't even handle being this close to you right now!" Karl shouts, beginning to hasten away.

"Hey, don't leave me! Karl! Karl, wait!" Techno runs after him, catching him by the arm before he can scale the staircase. "Listen to me! What if.. what if we dance together tonight, huh? Tubs and Ranboo are picking the music. Dance with me, Karl?"

Those blazing orbs begin to soften, hinting at the old Karl. "You meant that?"

"Yes, Karl. I want you to dance with me."

Karl smiles, nodding rapidly. "I'll dance with you, Techno. Just you and me, right? Dancing on our own? Nobody else?"

"Just you and me," Techno affirms, even if just to get Karl back on his good side.

The only reason Techno is proposing an idea like a private dance is because he can't handle being alone, even to the slightest extent. If Karl doesn't stick by him, who will? Techno needs Karl, even if it's just for his own selfish gain. He tries not to let his grin show his true intentions as Karl goes in for a quick hug, no doubt imagining the best as Techno dreads the worst.

Techno Blade could never love another soul.

~

"Can you scoot over?"

"Stop breathing on me!"

"You're chewing _so_ fucking loud!"

"That toxic smell of nail polish is killing my head!"

"You keep looking in my direction!"

Green eyes. Brown eyes. Narrowed glares. Both Dream and Techno shift on the couch as Dream goes back to noisily stuffing popcorn in his mouth while Techno blows the fumes of black nail polish at Dream. The pinkette smirks as Dream glances over with annoyance in his gaze.

"Real funny. Why are you painting them, anyways? I liked the pink," Dream comments, exasperatedly.

Techno shrugs. "I'm fond of change."

"Makes one of us.. Can I see yet?"

"If you must." Techno flashes his beautifully painted left hand, nails shining in the sun seeping in from the nearby window. "You should let me paint yours next."

Dream's cheeks flush rouge as he begins to toy with the lumens of his catheter. "I don't know about that."

"Figures," murmurs Techno, rolling his eyes. "Can you leave that thing alone for a damn minute? You're going to rip it out of your chest!"

The younger forces his hands down to his sides. "Not really. It's how I get the nerves out."

Techno's eyelids lower. "Oh, so I make you nervous? Good to know."

"That's not what I-"

"Too late! Dreamy gets all nervy and flustered when I'm in his presence!"

Dream slams the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and shouts, "Fuck off! You do _not_ make me nervous! Maybe sick, but that's not the same thing!"

"Cry me a river!"

Loud footsteps stomping into the common room halt the bickering as both Techno and Dream look at the doorway, Housemother entering with an unhappy expression. "I'm tired of the arguing! If you boys can't play nice at school or at home, then take it outside!"

The blonde frowns, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. "Maybe we're taking things a bit too far right now.."

"I suppose it's possible. So much for peacefully watching a movie."

"Well, I don't think peace was ever in the equation. What now, huh?" he asks.

Techno blows on his nails. "I don't know about _you,_ but I need to make a trip into town. Without Delilah, I'm a useless fencer, and I cannot bestow shame upon myself by showing up to my meet on Monday without a sabre."

"I'm sorry you.. lost.. Delilah. Where will you get her replacement?"

The older screws the cap back on the nail polish bottle and quickly tosses it to Dream just to test his reflexes. Unsurprisingly, he catches it with ease, one hand extended to the side, gripping the glass vial in his veiny fist. Techno has to suck in his cheeks to keep himself from smiling.

"There will never be another like Delilah, but I'm sure the sporting goods store in town will have _something_ that doesn't besmirch her." He narrows his dark eyes at Dream, unable to look away from the alluring freckles that pepper the bridge of his nose. "What, did you want.. want to come?"

Dream nods. "Yes, actually. I could use the blood flow."

Techno perks an eyebrow and questions, "Is that an anemia reference?"

"Feel my hands, and you tell me," Dream demands, laughing.

Without so much as a hint of hesitation, Techno grabs at Dream's hands and squeezes them. Dream's eyes widen, almost as if he wasn't expecting Techno to do such a thing. The pretty, bulky hands are capped in pale blue and cold to the touch, sending a shiver down Techno's bony spine. He lets them go to preserve his own supply bank of warmth that he heats by burning his multitude of sins.

"Yeah, maybe you _could_ use the blood flow. Does this happen a lot?"

"Definitely. I have to be using them meticulously or running to warm up. Why do you think I always have my green hoodie with me?" Techno's heart skips a beat as Dream tilts his head in thought. "Say, you haven't seen it lately, have you? It might just be in my locker on the football field, but I don't know why I'd leave it there.."

The pinkette fakes the most natural smile he can conjure up. "Can't say that I have. Why's it so important to you, anyways? That shade of green is atrocious on the eyes."

"Lime is my favorite color. Plus, it used to belong to my dad. He wore it on his first date with my mom, funnily enough. Guy never was a dresser, now that I think of it.."

Techno catches his fake smile turning somewhat real and has to stop himself from seeming giddy over something as silly as Dream's hoodie. "They were meant for each other, huh?"

"Without a doubt. Whenever they looked at each other, I knew love was real. Enough about my dead parents, though. Sporting goods store?"

"Right. Yeah. Will you drive?" Techno asks, grabbing Housemother's keys from the wall hook next to the main door.

Dream averts his gaze, scratching lightly at his neck. "Uh.. About that.."

Their eyes don't meet as Techno disappointedly stares at Dream, arms finding their natural position, crossed against his chest. Dream busies himself with pulling a red long-sleeved shirt over his head and patting out the wrinkles. The brilliant shade of ruby contrasts rather greatly with the sickly white and blue of his hands and patchy face. Even though he's still healing from their great war and showing off all of the negativities of having anemia, Techno finds his orbs digging at Dream's discolored image, perfect nonetheless. In fact, he catches himself watching Dream intently a lot more these days..

"You can't drive, can you?"

The younger shakes his head. "Not even a little bit. I've never sat in a driver's seat before."

"For shame. Didn't you take a driver's education course in freshman year? Will and I did, and Tommy's in his now!"

"No, no, no. Freshman year was.. a lot. I don't wanna talk about it right now, though. Are we leaving?"

Techno purses his lips, knowing he shouldn't pry, but still having the urge. "Yeah, Dream. Let's head out."

~

In his seventeen years of being alive, Techno has always been drawn to chaos. In their childhood, Phil would take Techno and Wilbur to karate lessons every Tuesday night and watch them spar in their white uniforms, always in their own little world. Techno got kicked out six months later for accidentally breaking another kid's nose.. twice. To be fair, Techno was always much better at combat than any of his peers, and the world seemed to know it. That's when Phil decided to let Techno experiment with a dueling sport that didn't involve bodily contact: fencing.

When Techno was just ten years old, he picked up his first sabre. The thin, flexible blade ending in a rubber point with a red grip that conformed to the shape of his hand and a metallic knuckle guard became Techno's sidekick. Delilah, the sword that could always seem to tell Techno's move before the pinkette himself thought of it, won him almost every match he played. The way his body could move, so elegant and nimble, yet always prepared to strike, was unmatchable. Everyone feared Techno Blade and his trusty sabre, Delilah.

They still do.

Well, except now, Techno is without his dearest Delilah. Seven long years of being side-by-side could not have prepared him for her untimely death. Techno must be on high alert around his housemates now, for there is a mole hiding amongst his devoted friends. His stomach aches when he thinks about how someone could break into his and Will's room with the sole intention of cutting techno as deep as anyone ever could.

"I like that one," comments Dream, knocking Techno from his memories. "The grip is pink, just like you. Must be fate, right?"

"Maybe.. How can you be sure?"

Dream stands back, arms spread out in the air. "Hit me, Blade."

"Positive, Dream? You might live to regret it.."

The blonde winks. "En-garde!"

Techno smirks, whipping his long braid behind his back and preparing himself. He moves like a hunting cobra, one foot in front of the other as he slashes the sabre through the air, just to gain a bit of momentum.. _and_ to strike a bit of fear into his target. Dream smiles good-naturedly, eyes transfixed on Techno's form as he switches the sword from his left to his right hand. He positions the sabre diagonally across his chest, planting his feet firmly on the floor as his torso bends at a forty-five degree angle.

"Touché!" Techno exclaims, jamming the point directly in the center of Dream's chest with one fluid, unwavering motion.

Of course, he makes sure not to hit the catheter. Techno can be respectful when he wants to.

"Like watching an ice skater land an intricate spin. I think she's the one."

The older eyes the shimmering blade, trying to imagine himself scoring point after point on Monday afternoon, garnering bloodlust and fame that no singular student should possess. This sabre is no Delilah, but she is rather magnificent. Sleek, aerodynamic, sexy in just the way every fencer desires, having to stop a stray bit of drool from leaking out of their mouth. She's beautiful.

"I like her. What shall I name her?" Techno questions, giving the sabre another taste of what's to come by slicing the air with her perfect blade.

"Dream. And no, I don't accept rejections. Her name is Dream," insists the blonde.

Techno rolls his eyes, but deep down, he's already catalogued her at the front of his mind as his new fencing sabre, Dream. "You wish. Ready, now? I've to get back home and do some preparation."

"For what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? The boys and I have a little something planned for the night.."

Dream stops in his tracks, giving Techno the side-eye. "Don't tell me it's date night.."

"It's date night! I just found out this morning, but I'm already in game mode. You know, Wilbur's been-"

"-hitting up every liquor store in the area for weeks that won't card him because he's so tall. Yeah, I know."

The older guffaws and practically shouts, "You actually listen to me?!"

"Well, I kind of have to when you're babbling on and on and _on_ at dinner about this or that. Everyone hears you, Techno."

Techno smiles a genuine grin, one that he cannot stop himself from producing. "Sure, people _hear_ me, but not many listen. You listen."

The blonde looks rather taken aback by the comment, causing Techno to dash ahead of him, sabre in hand. The last thing Techno wants is to share another moment with Clay Dream. After yesterday, he still feels on edge in the emotion department, too drained to share any of his actual feelings for the next couple of months. One's sworn enemy sobbing next to them is enough to absolutely cripple someone like Techno. Hell, maybe it _has._

All Techno knows is that he doesn't want to focus on anything but the impending party tonight in which he will give in to his greatest desires and get absolutely fucked up. After the week he's had, he sure as hell deserves a night of no regrets.

But, something in the back of Techno's mind tells him he may have a few..

Dream's green eyes twinkle.

~

Teenage ecstasy exists here in its most raw form. The moving bodies vibrate with electric love, creating a livewire of unadulterated feeling, something so painstakingly addictive, yet too precious to hold onto for very long.

_"And if I may just take your breath away;  
I don't mind if there's not much to say.  
Sometimes the silence guides your mind;  
So move to a place so far away."_

Karl holds onto Techno's exposed waist as they jump off the couch, carrying their erratic dancing down onto the floor. The pinkette can barely see him, barely see _anything,_ but he knows he's safe, for Karl is gripping him tighter than ever. Somebody smacks into Techno's back, but he only slightly recognizes the touch. His human form feels so far out of reach.

_"The goosebumps start to race;  
The minute that my left hand meets your waist.  
And then I watch your face;  
Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love the taste, yeah."_

Hot and bothered hands grab at Techno, pulling his clothes and hair, sweaty lips passing against his cheeks as his closest friends flow by him in their fluid movements. Alex breaks one of Karl's planted hands away from Techno to tuck a half-finished bottle of bourbon in his unsteady grip. He shakily brings the bottle up to his lips, not missing a beat as he keeps on dancing to the song, fingertips digging into Techno's side as alcohol drips down his chin.

_"These hearts adore;  
Everyone the other beats hardest for.  
Inside this place is warm;  
Outside it starts to pour."_

Techno's wavering vision, slow motion and out of focus, pans across the room as Karl carefully tilts the bottle into his lips, guiding him to drink more than he feels capable of intaking. George and Sapnap are grinding in the corner of the room. Bad and Skeppy hold hands while gently dancing, clearly too drunk to function. Tommy and Tubbo have fallen over onto each other, drunkenly passed out on the floor. Alex is spread out across the couch now, smiling up into the great nothing as a curl of white smoke rises from his mouth. Ranboo dances chaotically in the center of the room, a lampshade on his head and a furry on his back. Wilbur softly sways to the music, clutching a liter of blue raspberry vodka in one hand.

_"Coming down...  
One love, two mouths;  
One love, one house.  
No shirt, no blouse;  
Just us, you find out.  
Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no, no, no."_

Red, sweaty faces clog Techno's mind as he tries to remember who and what he is. Karl pulls him back into their dance, spinning him around one, two, three, four times. Someone tugs the ponytail holder from his braid, allowing those dreamy pink ribbons to flutter freely in the mess of stoned and intoxicated teenage boys. The still aware enough to stand kids flock to the center of the room, all preparing to yell the chorus together. Hands fall into other hands as they all stand together, happy and alive, even if for just one night.

_"'Cause it's too cold;  
For you here and now.  
So let me hold;  
Both your hands in the holes of my sweater."_

Techno rides this everlasting euphoria as he is spun around another handful of times. Off-key singing filled with voice cracks and slurred lyrics blast against his eardrums as Techno's eyes close. His arms, legs, and hips move in different directions while he and Karl jump again, mimicking a teenage mosh pit. Suddenly, he's lifted from the ground, and the wasted pinkette can do nothing more than hold onto Karl for dear life and pray that he has enough wits left in his fuzzy brain not to drop him. Techno surely doesn't.

"Woo! Go Techno Blade! Look at him!" Sapnap shouts, before keeling over to puke in Alex's discarded beanie.

"I love you, Techno!" Karl exclaims over the music, as he puts his best friend back down. "I love you so much."

The younger grins, though he can't feel his face. "Thanks. I love me too."

He finds himself dancing harder with each drink that traverses his lips. Techno manages to spot his twin brother nursing the bong alongside Alex as he flies around the room, gliding like the fencer he is.. that has lost all bodily function. Every person here makes him feel so good, even Fundy, who's still proudly sporting a tail and ears from his spot on Ranboo's back. In all honesty, they may be having the most fun..

Just when Techno is for sure nothing can dampen his mood of blissful oblivion, he opens his eyes and finds himself just a few feet in front of Dream's room. The blonde is leaning against his doorway, smirking with his arms over his chest. Suddenly, Techno feels rage course through his veins as he stumbles his way over to Dream and gives him a hefty shove.

"Why're you watching me, creep?" he demands to know.

Dream puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry, you just dance like a maniac. Are you done yet? We really need to get some work done-"

"You shut the fuck up! What's is to ya, huh? You don't own me, Clay Dream.."

"Hey, calm down. You're really out of it. Can you even see me?" asks Dream, snapping in his face.

Techno doesn't even blink. "I hate you."

"I know you don't mean that."

"You don't know anything! I locked you in a closet, remember?"

The younger sighs, pulling Techno inside his room and shutting the door behind him. Techno trips over his own feet as he falls onto Dream's bed, angry and ungodly tired. Dream looms just beyond the bed, gazing at him with something in his eyes that borders on concern. Techno despises that look.

"Of course, I remember. I think that's the worst thing another human has done to me. It took a lot out of me to see past that, you know."

Techno sneers. "You shouldn't have. Think we're friends because I give you the time of day? You're so wrong about me."

"How's about we talk about this when you're not out of your mind? I'm a little worried about you right now, Techno.. How much did you drink?" questions Dream, tugging on the blue lumen of his catheter. "You don't look so good."

"I'm gonna puke."

Dream quickly sets himself into motion, retrieving one of the red hazardous waste bags that are usually used for needles out of one of the drawers of his medical cart. He opens it and holds it in front of Techno as the pinkette holds onto Dream's forearm to stabilize himself. The horrific cries of drunken vomit seep from Techno's raw throat as his guts are emptied. Before Dream can dispose of the bag, whiny Techno pulls him down to the bed next to him, his limp head falling against Dream's bare chest.

"Christ, Techno. I've never seen you so vulnerable."

The older's hands shake as he grips onto Dream's shoulders, in so much pain that it rocks him to his very core. "People.. only.. see.. what.. I.. want.. them.. to.. see.."

"Huh, what do you mean by that? Are you trying to admit you have insecurities?"

"I _am_ an insecurity, you fuck! God, and you wonder why I hate you. You're so perfect and stupid, and I hate you for it."

Dream's lips quirk. "You think I'm perfect?"

"Of course, I do. I want to get under your skin and make you feel weak so that others don't notice that you're better than me. But, you're so fucking resilient and confident. It makes me sick," Techno admits, drooling onto Dream's left peck. "I hate you."

The blonde runs a hand down the length of Techno's hair, covering Techno's entire back in shivers. "I'm perfect? _Seriously?_ Techno, I'm a terminally ill, friendless orphan. You can't be more of a loser than me."

Techno exhaustedly giggles. "Loser has nothing to do with it. Even the losers get lucky sometimes. At least I'm prettier than you."

"I can agree with that."

"Huh?"

"I said I agree."

"Agree with what?"

"Do I _have_ to say it?"

"Yes."

Dream rolls his eyes as Techno's close again. "You're very pretty, Techno. I've always thought that. Even when you've gone out of your way to make my life a living hell and say terrible things meant to crush me, I've always known that you were pretty as fuck. Good now?"

"Perfect.." Techno mumbles, already on his way out of consciousness.

The pinkette slumps over onto Dream's bed, sprawled out like a mannequin with mismatched limbs. Though his mind is as far away from this realm as it can possibly get, one small, miniscule, almost _microscopic_ detail follows him into sleep.

Clay Dream.

And, they're holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a wild ride, huh? Something tells me they'll both be catching a case of feelings soon, but could they ever put aside their differences long enough to experience love? Keep reading to find out... ;) Leave me a comment if you'd like! They're my favorite part about uploading a chapter. <3
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for updates! https://twitter.com/phantomsunsets


	7. Lonesome Sundown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Redemption comes;  
> To those who wait.  
> Forgiveness is the key;  
> And I wish you love.  
> And I wish you hope;  
> Please believe in me.
> 
> And it's a lonesome sundown;  
> This is gonna be hard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Chapter 7 is finally here, and I am really feeling this part. ;) Enjoy!

There are certain things that the mind cannot comprehend in the waking hours, like new colors, the fourth dimension, and what infinity looks like when laid out in a neat line. In slumber, though, everything is much different. Scenarios that could never possibly happen in real life suddenly take shape and create somethingthat _feels_ so true, no matter how incomprehensible. Thoughts flow in peace and comfort as the world sleeps soundly in all of its omnipotence.

But, unfortunately, Techno's mind and body have different plans for him today.

As soon as his bloodshot eyes jerk open, he only knows pain. His head pounds as if Thor's hammer has fallen from the sky and landed directly on his skull. The chapped lips below his button nose slowly part as Techno takes in a slow breath. His fingers curl into the mattress, a little put off by the stale ache in his throat. Techno can't remember that last time he's been this dehydrated with a pulsating headache to such a degree.

"I'm so fucking tired of waking up in pain," mumbles Techno, propping himself up on his elbows to grasp his bearings.

Techno squints across the room, expecting his twin brother's bed to come into view, but a metal sink protruding from the plaster wall greets him instead. He raises an eyebrow, reaching a stiff arm out to touch the flat-lining heart rate monitor at his side. Techno flicks the IV stand holding an empty bag of saline with one his newly black-painted nails. None of this feels right.

"How did I end up in the hospital?" he whispers, to himself.

Messy, pink hair finds its way into his hands as Techno begins to lift himself over the guardrail. It proves harder than he imagined, for he's, for some unknown reason, in a pair of skinny jeans and a glittery halter top. Techno's pants catch on the bed, causing him to fall to the ground with a loud thump. And then, Techno finally sees _him._

There's a body curled up on the hardwood floor, cuddling a fleece blanket against his bare chest. A tangle of sandy locks covers his face, and Techno can't help but move such chaotic bangs away from his eyes. Green orbs gaze back at him, illuminated by the morning sun and encased in golden eyelashes so long that, if Techno were to kiss him, he'd feel them rub against his cheeks with each stroke of their lips. Techno's glared into these eyes a million times, so why is he just now noticing how delicate and captivating they are?

"What are you doing in here?" asks Techno, accusatorily.

Dream sits up, his ribs red with indention marks from where the pattern of the hardwood etched onto his skin. "Sleeping? This is my room, after all."

Techno's eyes widen. "Your.. what?"

"My bedroom, Techno. You fell asleep in here last night, remember?"

The older rubs the space between his eyes to try and garner some relief from this horrific migraine. Last night feels so far away and fuzzy, almost as if it happened years ago or in a dream. Techno can remember loud music, maybe even some fighting, but what is most striking is the lingering taste of something pungent and tart dancing across his frazzled taste buds. 

"Not really. Why didn't you kick me out? I'd have kicked you out in a heartbeat," Techno admits, trying to undo the knots in his hair.

"Nice to know.. I dunno, Techno. You passed out.. and.. you really don't remember? Like, nothing at all?"

Techno shakes his head. "No, why? I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

Dream softly smiles, looking down at the floor. "No. You were lovely, though I do hope Mr. Blade pays me soon for babysitting you. The ground isn't comfy, you know."

"I can tell. How long have you been down here?"

The blonde shrugs. "I sat in the common room for awhile and did some make-up work after the other hooligans went to bed. Before I knew it, it was 5:00 A.M., so I did my infusion treatments and laid down a bit after 7:00 A.M."

"Wait, why the hell did you stay up all night? Because I was in your bed?"

"No, not that." Dream sighs, placing a palm over his catheter. "I feel off. My vitals have fluctuated a bit, and my body is.. tender."

Techno can't help but look away, not keen on dealing with the unresolved tension in the room this morning. "Take it easy today, then. Not like you have any plans, right?"

"Well, if I did, at least they'd be respectable. No late night hookups for me," prods Dream.

"Jealous?" Techno seethes.

Dream snorts. "Of you? Not a chance. What are you doing today besides recovering from a nasty hangover, huh?"

"Fuck. It's Sunday, isn't it?"

The younger nods. "The start of a new week. You don't plan on sabotaging my next competition against Kye Illumina, do you? It's on Wednesday."

"Sunday. Lovely. Great." Techno sighs, gripping the guardrails as he pulls his stiff body up from the floor. "Haven't decided yet. Plan on chucking any steaming hot root vegetables at me?"

"Haven't decided yet either. Plan on sending a furry after me with an artificial axe to grind?"

The pretty pinkette with his abundance of hair gathered in one hand, a free finger hooked onto his septum ring, gives Dream a not-so-subtle wink. "What can I say besides I haven't decided yet?"

"Touché, Techno Blade. You snore like a pig, by the way," comments Dream.

Techno rolls his eyes. "I was blackout drunk! You're just upset that you weren't fucked up."

"Bold of you to assume I can get _blackout drunk_ while taking the kind of medications I do. They're not easy on my body, for your information." Dream sighs and places a large palm over his entire catheter, practically erasing it out of existence from Techno's eyes. "You haven't.. told anyone about my illness, right?"

The older's dry lips purse as his eyes flicker to the ground. Whatever happened last night between them, whether good or bad, has clearly strained Dream's little amount of trust for Techno. Not that Techno cares terribly much about what Dream thinks of him.. Just because the two have a mutual understanding while they're partnered for English class doesn't make them anything more than two kids trying to get a decent grade.

"No, I've not. I may be a mean person, but I'm not _that_ low."

Dream eases himself up next to Techno. "You were low enough to try and take my only passion and dream away from me in the little amount of time I have left to try and achieve it."

"That's before I knew how much it meant to you! And.. before I knew you didn't have forever to run and make it to nationals."

"So, you admit it."

Techno's eyes widen. "Huh?"

"You wouldn't sabotage me again. I just got you to admit it."

The pinkette involuntarily half-smiles. "You tricked me."

"Not necessarily." Dream lowers his eyelids. "I merely got you to tell me the truth. There's a big difference."

"I wouldn't know."

Dream scrunches up his nose, alerting Techno to just how pasty and discolored Dream's face is today. His neck and chest are taking on the same patchy effect, almost as if his blood vessels are suffering from vitiligo. Techno doesn't want the blonde to notice he's staring, much less almost.. _concerned.._ for his health, but he can't help it. Dream's entire life is rather concerning.

"I can teach you, if you'll let me," offers Dream, softly grinning with a twinkle in his curious eyes.

Techno considers this for a moment before boldly deciding to gently nod and place a hand on Dream's nearest bicep. His skin, while insanely smooth and gripping toned muscle, is boiling hot to the touch and slightly damp. Oh, how Techno does not find himself envying Dream right now. It seems as though he might be in for a rough day.

~

"Jesus Christ, Dadza. When are you going to sell this beast?" Tommy asks, patting the top of Phil's baby blue Buick as he steps out from the backseat. "My neck is killing me now!"

"Come on, now. What's wrong with it? This old girl's gotten us everywhere."

Wilbur snickers, climbing out after Tommy. "Yeah, and it worked well when we were kids. We're all much taller than you now, Dadza."

"I'm aware, Will. You three outgrow your jeans and shoes like they're going out of style," complains Phil, wrapping an arm around each of his curly-haired sons.

Techno finally pulls himself from the passenger's seat, but he doesn't join their group cuddle session. He leans up against the Buick, arms across his chest, and studies the pearl-esque sky above them, gleaming without a single streak of clouds in the usually hidden atmosphere. Wilbur says something that Techno doesn't quite catch, following a sharp laugh from the youngest Blade. He squeezes his tongue ring in-between his teeth just to fill the own silence of his head that blocks out the family banter.

"Hey, Techie? You in there?" asks Tommy, shaking his brother's arm.

"What? Oh, yeah. What do you want?"

Tommy frowns. "You didn't hear what I said?"

"Sorry, Toms. Say again, please."

"Never mind. It won't be as funny the second time." The feisty blonde sticks his tongue out while glaring. "Why are you ignoring us? You did that same thing all during lunch!"

Phil steps in front of Tommy. "Oi, Thomas. Why don't you and Will go on inside my apartment, 'kay? We'll be upstairs in a minute."

Wilbur swipes their father's keys from his hand. "Works for me. Race you, Tommy!"

"Not so fast!" shouts Tommy, as they run off together.

The pinkette sighs as Phil's blue eyes narrow in on him. "What's this about?"

"Sit with me, son." Phil props himself up onto the Buick's hood and pats the spot next to him. "What's on your mind? You seem a little distant today. Is this about your suspension?"

Techno hears the metal frame of the car creak as he pulls his body up beside Phil. "Not exactly. I dunno, Dadza. This past week has been.. a lot to deal with. Do I have to talk about it?"

"Yes, you do. I can't help you if you don't let me in. Is it about your mother?"

He shakes his head. "Not Mom. Has she called lately?"

"No, not in awhile. I'll leave her another message tonight, okay? She's probably just busy this week. What else is swimming around in that head of yours?" Phil questions, softly smiling at his most ill-tempered son.

Techno looks down to his painted nails and thinks back to yesterday when he painted them in front of Dream. Spending time with him in the absence of schoolwork is one thing, but waking up in his bed? It's so different. _Dream_ is different.

"Well, do you remember that boy I got into a fight with?" Phil nods, his expression slightly wavering. "Clay Dream is his name. I've been talking to him more lately. Not by choice, of course, but.. I'm just so conflicted. Dad, I already asked Housemother, but now I need _your_ opinion. Am I a bad person?"

"What? No, Techno. I think you have a bit too much pride that you'd hold up no matter the cost, but you are a good kid. Why is Clay Dream making you think differently?"

The pinkette takes in a deep breath. "I did some shitty things to him. A lot of shitty things. For a long time. All school year, actually. Ever since Dream moved into Boarding House 7 a few months ago, I've just wanted to hurt him, but I think I was wrong.. I think I'm bad, Dadza."

"Dave Blade, my dearest son, how could you think you're bad if you're recognizing the wrongdoings you've made? Instead of feeling all sorry for yourself, why not make it up to him?"

Techno's eyes widen. "No way. We're not friends. We don't even like each other! I don't think so, anyways.."

"Why not, huh? Sounds like you two could use each other. Ever think that maybe you need a friendship that isn't based on loyalty?" Phil places a loving hand on Techno's head and ruffles his loose waves. "I know you've had a lot of trust issues ever since Mom ran off, but not everyone is going to leave you. You know that, right?"

"How can you be so sure?"

Phil winks. "I'm never leaving you, for one. Maybe Dream won't leave you either."

His son looks down again, no longer able to hold eye contact. "I dunno, Dadza. I'm not sure he has a lot of time."

"Well, then you should make his time worthwhile. No matter what you do, who you meet, or the choices you make, you're always going to get hurt, Techno. Maybe you should take a chance, huh? Stop closing yourself off and refusing to show the littlest of vulnerable emotions, besides anger."

Techno shudders and explains, "Dream needs comfort, and I could never give him such a thing."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how to!"

Phil wags his finger at his son. "Now, now, now. Remember how I'd comfort you as a child?"

"You'd.. brush my hair and softly hum.." Techno answers.

His father nods. "There you go, Techno."

"You're saying I should brush his hair?"

"Not quite." Phil slides off the hood of the Buick and holds out his hand to help Techno down as well. "In your roughest moments, I did everything in my power to take your pain away, and that just so happened to be through humming and brushing your hair. Do you understand?"

Techno takes Phil's extended hand and joins him on the ground of the parking lot, looking up to the apartment building that he shares with many other staff members that work at the boarding school. Phil opens his arms wide, encouraging Techno to come forward and intertwine himself in his father's warm grip. He clenches his eyes shut tight, wishing they'd never have to let go of each other again. But alas, time keeps on moving forward, and they are forced to part eventually.

"I think so. Thank you, Dad."

Phil grins and begins heading inside. "Anything for you, Techno. Now, let's join your brothers for a round of Mario Kart. It's about time I kicked your ass at that game again."

"Oh, you're so on, Dadza."

~  
  


When Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno begin the lazy walk back to the boarding house, it's already evening, the golden sun setting to the west and lighting their way home. Sundays with their father are always special, for he is the only blood the young brothers have in the entirety of Oregon. Phil cares about his three sons so much, even if he hasn't always been able to provide them with the most luxurious of lives.

"Techno, where are you going?" Wilbur asks, as Techno begins to veer from their path. "Home's this way, you drunkard."

"I know that, dimwit. I have to make a pitstop, but you two can go on without me."

Tommy nudges him. "What kind of pitstop?"

"A _private_ one. No more questions, please. I'll see you both at dinner."

Wilbur shrugs and says, "All right, I suppose. Sure you don't need backup? I'm always down to scheme with you.."

"Thanks, Will, but I need to be on my own for a bit. Talk later," finishes Techno.

The pinkette's brothers wave him off as he takes a sharp turn toward the track, a place he's been visiting quite a bit this week. After hearing Phil's advice, Techno has the sudden urge to act on his confusing feelings to get closer to Dream. It may just be the worst idea in the history of his entire life, but Techno can't keep his secret yearning for Dream bottled up any longer. Techno wants to talk to him and at least _attempt_ to comfort the aching boy during these most trying times. He's beginning to think maybe Dream doesn't deserve the hand he's been dealt in this brutal existence.

As per usual, Techno finds himself scaling the fence instead of walking around to the gate and letting himself in like a normie. Without having a boost from his twin brother, the climb is a bit harder, and Techno actually manages to rip his top up his entire right side. He curses under his breath as the metal shredding his clothing digs into his ribs. A clump of Techno's hair gets caught in the fence while he stumbles to the ground, less than graceful, but still egotistical as ever. It's not the first fall he's taken today, after all.

"Well, that's _not_ what I meant to do.."

Techno dusts himself off, not minding the newly acquired rip, as he tries to scout out Dream along the blinding sunset. A few bodies are making their rounds, pumping arms and legs with dangling headphone wires blowing in the gentle breeze. The first two people pass him, but none of them are the built form with shaggy, blonde hair. As the third nears in on him, Techno squints even harder to try and put Dream's name to this boy. But, Techno doesn't see Dream. No, a figure with black hair and suntanned skin comes jogging up to him instead.

"Well, well, well," huffs Kye Illumina, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "What brings Techno Blade around these parts? It's been awhile. How's suspension going?"

"Lovely as ever, Illumina. Is Dream here?"

Illumina guffaws. "What, plan on beating his ass again? That was a good show, Blade. Word managed to get around enough for me to hear a certain rumor that _you_ were the one that locked Dream in the janitor's closet. That's deliciously evil."

"Yeah, sure. Evil and shit. My kinda thing. So, you haven't seen him?" Techno questions, quickly losing his patience with Illumina.

The black-haired boy shakes his head. "Not today. Maybe he's given up on trying to defeat me, the best runner in this school. In this _state!"_

"Are you sure about that?" Techno's expression hardens as he crosses his arms. "Dream's pretty fucking fast. Without me here to sabotage him, he might just outrun you on Wednesday."

"If I didn't know any better, it would seem like you're defending that orphan."

Techno narrows his eyes. "Good thing you know better. See you Wednesday then, yeah?"

"Yeah. Good luck on the loser hunt."

Illumina winks solely to add some salt to Techno's festering wound before taking off again, running just as quickly and nimble as before. Techno sighs, resisting the urge to yell something heinous in Illumina's direction, before he sulks his way up the metal bleachers, as desolate as ever without screaming fans here to fill them. He walks himself up to the very top row and slouches down in-between two of the rows of benches. The shimmering sunset lights a halo around Techno, causing his apparent sorrow to glow.

Techno's irises quiver in the evening sun as he imagines Dream sitting next to him, commenting on the way earth's brightest star sets perfectly against the football field and creates a haven of beauty for a rather insignificant portion of this seemingly infinite planet. If only he were here, maybe, just _maybe,_ Techno's dead heart wouldn't feel so cold.

Or, maybe, it would feel even colder.

~

The crickets are humming rather loudly when Techno finally makes his way up the stoop of Boarding House 7, rather groggy and ready for a good night's sleep in his own bed. Today's internal monologue has completely drained him, leaving Techno more conflicted than ever before. Chatters from the dining room trail into the parlor as Techno steps inside his home with a rather drawn out sigh. He sneaks his way down the hall to spy on his precious boys, but they notice his presence immediately.

"There you are, Techno!" exclaims Fundy, fluttering his nose like curious animal. "Where've you been? Your plate's getting cold!"

Techno slips into the chair beside Wilbur. "I had some business. What're we eating?"

"Pasta," answers Ranboo, to the surprise of everyone else. "Uh.. it's uh.. Tubbo's favorite."

"He's right," Tubbo affirms, a tomato sauce stain on his left cheek.

The pinkette grins. "Good to know. Say, has anyone seen Dream? Figured he'd be at dinner."

"Actually, he's been holed up in his room all day. I don't think I've seen the muffin's door open a single time," answers Bad, gently piercing a noodle with his fork.

"All day?" Techno raises an eyebrow, pushing his plate away. "Like, he didn't even go running earlier? That's so unlike him.."

Karl slides an arm around Techno's back. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. I just want to get some work down on our English midterm while the book he made me read is still fresh in my mind."

Tommy snickers to himself, eyeing Wilbur from across the table. "It's rather funny that you're being forced to work with the orphan. I bet he's even more insufferable one-on-one!"

The table of close friends erupts into laughter, Bad covering his mouth so as not to alert the other boys he finds humor in Tommy's comment. They don't point out his sorry attempt at keep the peace, for there is no such thing as peace when Clay Dream is in the equation. Techno finds himself doing exactly what Phil told him not to: feeling sorry for himself. He's not the one that deserves pity here, no, for every little bad thought these kids have about Dream has been implanted by Techno himself.

"I'm not quite hungry tonight, fellas. Tell Housemother I'm sorry," Techno mutters, skittering up from the table so he doesn't heave his lunch out of embarrassment.

Techno gathers himself in the hall before taking a few deep breaths and heading toward Dream's room. As usual, it's closed. Techno rapidly knocks, pressing his ear up to the door to try and hear any movement. A far away, smallish sound echoes from beyond the door, but the hot-headed pinkette cannot concentrate long enough to make out what's happening. Housemother passes Techno as he listens in on Dream, sparking an idea in his irrational mind.

"Housemother!" He jogs after her, catching the woman right before she can enter the dining room. "What's Dream doing?"

"Hello, Dave. I don't think he's feeling well today. He hasn't left his room since this morning."

The pinkette sucks on his bottom lip for comfort. "Is it.. to do with his illness?"

Housemother shrugs. "You'll have to ask him yourself. I suggest just leaving him alone, though. He needs his rest, Dave."

"I don't think I can do that, but thank you. Tubbo's making a mess, by the way."

She sighs and turns to the dinning room while shouting, "Toby Smith, you better not be putting noodles in your nostrils again!"

"Again? Whatever.." Techno switches his attention back to Dream's room, knocking loudly on the wooden door. "I don't care if you're decent or not; I'm coming in!"

Techno twists the handle so violently that it almost comes off in his hand, but he doesn't care. His brown eyes double in size upon seeing the contorted figure softly moaning and weeping in the hospital-esque bed. There Dream lies, covered in sweat with fiery cheeks and a canopy of hair that is plastered to his forehead. Tears trickle down his wet face as his limbs twitch, fingers flexing and unflexing with each strained breath.

"What's happened to you? Dream? Dream! Please, talk to me.." demands Techno, pushing Dream's hair back and wiping away some of the sweat with his sleeve.

"Techno, I'm.. I'm having.. a pain crisis," Dream mutters, between exasperated groans of agony.

The pinkette hesitantly cups Dream's cheek, just so that their eyes can finally meet. "What's a pain crisis? What can I do for you?"

"My blood cells.. are blocking the blood flow in my back and chest.. Techno, it hurts so much. It hurts so fucking much.." He audibly whimpers, nuzzling into Techno's touch. "It feels like I'm being repeatedly stabbed.. It won't subside, not even for a fucking second.."

Techno climbs over the guardrail, placing a hand under Dream's sweaty head and another under his back. "We're getting you to the hospital right now.."

"No, no.. I can't move, Techno. I can't.. Oh god, it's like every atom in my body is being crushed!" Dream exclaims, fretfully grasping for Techno's hand. "Please, don't make me go.. I can't handle being in there, Techno. It's so cold and lonely, even lonelier than living here."

He tries to ignore that painful comment as Techno let's Dream's fingertips dig into his hand, saying, "Please, Dream. I know you hate it there, but you need proper treatment. If your doctor's so insistent on chemotherapy, then I think he's right, Dream."

More tears creep down Dream's face as a particularly strangled cry escapes his throat. "Please, don't leave me. I can't be alone there, Techno."

"Of course, not. I'm right here, okay? I'm right here, and I may be terrible company and responsible for trying to ruin your life and all around a shit person, but I'm not going to let you suffer through this alone, all right? I won't leave your side."

Dream's door opens, and Housemother calls in, "Is everything all right?"

"He's having a pain crisis! Call an ambulance!" Techno begs, rubbing Dream's arm to bring him solace. "Please, what can I do?"

"Stay.." Dream breathily moans, attempting a half-lidded smile. "Just stay with me."

Housemother shouts something Techno doesn't register, followed by Housefather's name and this or that about 911. Techno nestles himself beside Dream, continuously wiping the fresh tears from his splotchy face and tracing the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb. He steals a page right out of Phil's book by humming a sleepy tune from his childhood. Dream's body shakes as he buries his face in Techno's thigh. Before too long, the whole house is loud and chaotic as the boys previously scarfing down dinner fight to peek at Techno comforting Dream while the blonde counterpart screams and cries.

Flashing lights and unbearably loud sirens drown out Dream's sounds of torment as Techno continues caressing him and softly humming. Techno's one track mind has to fight to stay on course during Dream's breakdown, for he's not used to keeping his anger on the inside. And, yes, this whole scene makes him incredibly angry because he wants to take Dream's pain away, but all he can do is pretend to be the bigger person as Dream begs him to not let go of his hand. Techno eventually has to, for the paramedics need him out of the way to haul Dream onto the gurney.

Dream's horrifically pained eyes stay attached to Techno as he's wheeled away into the ambulance and driven off into the seemingly eternal darkness. Techno's heart races as Housemother puts an arm around his neck, eyes wet with sorrow. Housefather stands back with the rest of the boys, all sharing the same look of panic and confusion. Techno can't face them right now, though, for his emotions are too flamed to handle explaining why he reacted the way he did towards Dream.

Instead of sticking around to comfort Housemother or give his piece to his drifting friends, Techno balls his fists up and begins walking outside with no real destination in mind. If Dream's going to be alone tonight, then Techno deserves to suffer the same fate.

Only one thing is for certain now: everything has changed, and Techno can no longer act as if he's the only person that the world revolves around, for Clay Dream's survival is more important to Techno than even his own pride.

How pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST. What a rush, huh? That scene with Phil is my favorite so far. Follow me on Twitter to keep up-to-date with the latest news about You Wreck Me! I have a Carrd in my Twitter bio with info about me and all my links. :) > @ phantomsunsets <
> 
> Hope you leave a comment! They're my favorite part of uploading a chapter. <3


	8. Keeping Me Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They said love was a thing of the past;  
> That these days, nothing ever lasts.  
> This old world is movin' too fast...
> 
> And it feels so good to know;  
> I got you where you belong.  
> Here in my heart, right by my side;  
> Honey, you're getting me by.
> 
> Yeah, you're keeping me alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 is here, at last! As a little update on my posting schedule, I'll say for now that a new chapter will come about once a week. Sunday has been working well for me lately~ Enjoy!

The level ground–so cold, lonely, and hard–has become a key part of Techno's world over the past couple of weeks. His eyes focus in on the sky, no longer able to hear the cheers and screams around him. The voices aren't discernable anymore, and Techno's beginning to believe that they never have been. What's the point of being praised and adored if one can't be bothered to listen to the joyous cries anymore?

"Blade, what the hell is your problem?!" shouts Techno's coach, yanking him up from the ground by a limp hand. "You've been distant, unfocused, uncoordinated, and flat out _terrible_ at fencing lately. Care to explain?"

Techno's cheeks flush as he looks around at the crowd of students intently watching him, ears perked and mouths slightly agape with worry. He leans down to grab his new sabre from the foam covering spread out on the concrete. The embarrassed pinkette merely shrugs his shoulders and casts his gaze down to the floor so as not to make eye contact. The coach sighs and begins pulling Techno away.

"Throw Manifold and Callahan onto the practice mat while I talk to Blade."

The two step away from the fencing circle as the onlookers begin hollering for the new competitors. "Is this necessary?" asks Techno.

"Yes, it's damn necessary, Blade. You're the best damn fencer for miles around, but suddenly, you've been acting as though you've never held a sabre in your life. Wanna tell me what this is about?"

"I don't know, Coach. I've been a little distracted lately, sure, but I don't think I'm bad.."

The coach snorts. "Seriously? You just let a sophomore knock you down. I'm disappointed in you, kid. Right disappointed."

Techno sighs and yanks the helmet from his head, staticky waves falling like pink snow. "Well, I can't help it! Maybe I'm just not cut out to fence anymore.."

"Not cut out to fence? Blade, you were _made_ to fence. Whatever's on your mind, you have to put it aside. This is your future, your _livelihood,_ on the line, and I don't want you to give it all up for a teenage moment of angst. Are you hearing me?"

The pinkette rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Yes, Coach."

"Good. Now, go home and get some rest. If you're not back to normal by this week's match, I might have to think about subbing you out. Do you really want that?"

Techno bites his lip, eyebrows drawing together. "No, Coach. I'll do better."

He nods. "Hope so. Go on, Blade."

"Peace out."

At his first cue to run off, Techno immediately takes it. He starts heading away from the activity hall, peeking inside the nearby building as wrestlers practice in one window and the varsity basketball team in another. Techno much prefers training outside, even if the spills he's been taking are much less comfortable out here. He likes the fresh air, likes the crowds that gather around him and his peers to watch them expertly duel with their beautiful swords. Well, he _used_ to, anyways. Now, everything just feels painfully bland.

"Techno!" Karl calls, waving his hands in the air as his brown curls bob in the breeze. "There's my precious boyfriend. How was practice?"

Karl delicately leans in, placing his soft lips against Techno's as his palms grip onto those bony hips. Techno's reddened hands cup Karl's plump cheeks as their mouths graze in a simplistic, loving touch of two souls colliding as one. When Techno pulls back, Karl is grinning widely.

"Not the best. I'm still fucking up like crazy."

"Aww, poor baby. Maybe you're coming down with something. Are you hydrated? Have you been taking your multivitamins? You don't have mono, do you?"

Techno tries to laugh while shaking his head. "I don't have mono, Karl."

"That's a relief." Karl intertwines their fingers as the boys begin idling in the direction of Boarding House 7. "Are you.. worried about Dream?"

"What?! No way. I told you and everyone else in the house, I just instinctively reacted. I'm sure he was doing the same thing that night. You know how I feel about Dream."

Karl tightens his grip on Techno's hand. "I know.. It's just, you've been acting really off since he went to the hospital. I can't believe you didn't tell any of us he was sick!"

"Well, I'm not that kind of person. Would you want me to tell people if _you_ had a terminal illness?"

The older sighs. "That's not the point. You love me, Techno. You _hate_ Clay Dream. Why keep his secret?"

"Can we please not talk about Dream? I really don't want to spend the rest of my shitty morning thinking about him of all people," Techno groans, letting the tip of his sabre scrape against the ground as he walks.

"Yeah. Sorry, Techno. Let's just get home and decide with the boys where we're going out tonight."

Techno nods, half-smiling. "As long as it's nothing too stressful. I'm not in the mindset for fun."

"You will be by tonight," Karl assures, kissing Techno's nearest cheek.

Karl begins humming and bopping his head as they pass the fenced in football field, everyone on the track team practicing for their next meet. Techno can see Fundy steadily running as his fox tails sways back and forth. Illumina passes him in strides, black hair glistening in the morning sun. His heart uncontrollably aches, desperately wishing Dream was out there too with his lime green hoodie pulled up to his elbows. He has to force himself to look away.

"Hey, Karl?" Techno asks, looking back to his boyfriend.

"What is it, my love?"

The younger twitches his bejeweled nose, as piggy-shaped as ever, and points the end of his sabre at Karl. "Thank you for sticking beside me. You're the only one I really trust in the house."

"Techno, I love you so much. I'll always be your person, okay?" Karl taps Techno's chin so that their heads are level as he steals another quick kiss. "It's you and me forever, and _nothing_ can come between us."

~

Clothes from the closet and dresser have been torn out from their proper places and spread out across the floor. Books are everywhere, pages splayed open and stuffed in every corner of the room that they shouldn't be. Pillows and blankets have been ripped off of both twin beds and tossed into the hallway to be ignored until later. The desk is ransacked, the chair is tipped over sideways, and Wilbur's guitar is placed across the rest of the junk on the ground. Still, the lime green hoodie is _nowhere_ in sight.

Techno lets out a loud huff, on he cusp of mentally snapping, as he surveys the wreckage. He's completely demolished their living space over the past hour, yet the hoodie he stole from Dream and hid under his bed has completely disappeared. Techno hasn't touched it since he got home from the track meet on the day that he locked Dream in the janitor's closet, so that means that _somebody_ has. The bright pinkette has a slight suspicion that the person who broke his sabre is directly responsible for taking Dream's sacred hoodie from him.

Unable to handle any more pointless searching, Techno steps over the grizzly mess and into the hall where his and Wilbur's bedding lies. He'll have to clean this up before his twin sees, but luckily, he's playing a heated game of Monopoly in the common room with Fundy, Bad, and Alex, so that should keep Wilbur busy for awhile. Techno is well aware that they allowed Tubbo to be the banker, for he's been periodically yelling about how rich he is. Techno tiptoes past the staircase as he hones in on a very specific room. He knocks profusely until the door opens.

"Oh.. Hi, Techno. Fundy's downstairs," says Ranboo, his voice a bit pitchy from strain.

The older nods. "I know. May I come in?"

"In here..?"

"Yes, please."

Ranboo trips over his own feet as he motions Techno inside. "Of course! Make yourself at home.."

Techno surveys the living quarters as he steps inside. It's painfully clear who lives on what side of the room, for on one half, the walls are decorated with huge prints of hyperrealistic, animal-esque beings in rather strange outfits. Their fur is multicolored, and those huge eyes boring into Techno's soul glint with a certain hint of mischief. Below the posters, about twenty stuffed animals line the Pokémon bedsheets. There's a short dress clearly meant for a sexy maid costume lying on the headboard, along with an array of detachable tails in different sizes and colors.

The other side of the room? Well, it's ominously blank.

"Nice place you have here," Techno comments, choosing to lower himself to the floor rather than sit on either of the strange beds. "Can we talk about something?"

Ranboo scrambles to sit next to him, his two-toned bangs shielding his heterochromia as he flops down. "Sure.. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"

"No! Nothing like that, Ranboo. Do you.. uh.. remember what we did to Dream in the locker room a few weeks back?"

"When we trapped him in that closet without his inhaler and then ran off so that he wouldn't be eligible to compete in the first round of a serious of determining matches that could get him to nationals, making a name for himself and building a pathway for the entire life ahead of him? No, I don't think about it all that much."

Techno watches as Ranboo's eyes glue on the journal on his bedside table. _Do Not Read,_ it warns on the front cover. Ranboo doesn't blink, doesn't even _breathe,_ as he stares at it, almost to make sure it doesn't up and walk away. Techno swallows down the lump in his throat and attempts to reel Ranboo's attention back in by waving a hand in front of his face.

"Hey, I.. I am sorry for involving you in my drama with Dream. I shouldn't have made you participate in my bullshit. Can you forgive me?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

The younger's lips quiver as he softly smiles. "Yeah, Techno. I know how much you hate Dream, so I understand."

"Actually, can I admit something to you? You have to promise not to tell anyone." Ranboo nods, drawing an X over his heart. "Thank you. I don't hate Dream. I know I've been trying to play off what happened that night as just a natural reaction or pity, but.. I think I kinda like Dream."

Ranboo gasps. "You what?! But, Techno, he's your sworn enemy! How could you be friends with your sworn enemy?"

The pinkette sighs, pulling his knees up against his chest and squinting at one of the furries on the wall in front of him. "I don't think I can ever be friends with him. It's only _slightly_ eating me away on the inside, though. I'm so unsure of what to do next, Ranboo. I feel like a whole different person when I'm around him."

"How so?" Ranboo gently asks, mimicking his position.

Techno shrugs. "It's like I have a purpose. Like he can see through me, so I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. Am I crazy, Boo?"

"No, I don't think so. But, I think the other boys would presume so."

"That's why it's imperative you keep this to yourself."

Ranboo nods, his bangs swishing with the movement. "I won't tell anyone but my memory book."

"You mean your diary? Okay, fine, but make sure nobody snatches it from you.. You never know what's safe and what's not safe around here."

"What do you mean by that?" questions Ranboo, raising an eyebrow.

The older nibbles on his tongue ring. "Do you think anyone in the house is out to get me, Boo?"

His pupils dilate. "W-what?"

"Like.. willing to sabotage me? Maybe they're just pretending to be my friend, or _whatever_ I am with you boys. I thought we were all loyalists around these parts, but I'm beginning to think that one of us is a rat," Techno explains.

"I wouldn't know, but.." Ranboo glances around the room, almost as if he's expecting to spot another person hiding amongst them. "Keep your guard up. That's all I can say."

Techno has to hold his breath to keep himself from hyperventilating now, for it's almost perfectly clear to him that he's being targeted. Both Dream and Ranboo know something that Techno doesn't, but at least he can cross them off the list of possible culprits. He wants to also mentally mark off his brothers, for _surely_ neither of them would try to hurt him, as well as his boyfriend, Karl. Right?

Both Ranboo and Techno stand up at once as Techno glances down at the watch on his wrist. It's half past noon now, and Techno knows he needs to be fixing up his room and emotionally preparing himself for the return of the sick blonde he hasn't seen in two weeks. They step into the hall together as Techno pictures Dream, wondering if he'll look the same as before or weaker, paler, and in even more pain. Techno doesn't know much about what he's been going through in the hospital except that he's been in immense agony. Oh, how he would never audibly admit to missing Dream.

"TECHNO BLADE, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO OUR ROOM?!"

~

The metallic flavor of fresh blood prickles across Techno's tongue as his teeth relentlessly dig into his tender and ever-so-swollen lips for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. They pulsate with each strip of torn off skin, but he can't stop himself. His eyes have been trained on the door for what feels like forever and a day. Ranboo sits beside him, unblinking and barely even breathing anymore, for the tension is too thick to choke down. How much longer now?

At last, the doorknob begins to jiggle, and Techno and Ranboo jump up from the wooden stair they'd been uncomfortably sitting on. The hinges squeak as the door slightly creaks forward. Techno's fingertips itch to grab it and yank it fully open, but Ranboo's presence at his side keeps him grounded. A hand peers into view, followed by a body.. but it's not who Techno wants to see.

"Where is he?" Techno asks, trying to see past Housemother.

"Shh, we have visitors," Housemother answers, stepping aside to let a man and woman her own age into the boarding house. "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Frost, to our lovely abode."

The couple's curious eyes pan across the parlor, taking in the sight of such a rustic inn. The woman, with her hair pulled back into a tight bun, removes the shawl from her shoulders and drapes it on the coatrack resting by the door. The man's expression remains painfully neutral, almost hinting at boredom, as he places his suit jacket next to the shawl.

"Hurry along, Clay," Mr. Frost calls, into the outside world.

Techno's breath hitches as soft footsteps idle just beyond his line of sight until _he_ comes spying around the corner, a light grey sweater falling loosely over his torso. He's lost weight, almost as if the muscle he's acquired from running has drained away overnight. Er, well, over two weeks worth of nights. At least the redness in his cheeks and on the tip of his upturned nose is back, accentuating the freckles that Techno unknowingly missed seeing so much.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friends, Clay?" asks Mrs. Frost, motioning to a very stunned looking Ranboo and Techno. "Very interesting hair, boys.."

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Techno, Ranboo.. these are my foster parents, Cara and Ant Frost. Pink hair is Techno; super tall is Ranboo."

Cara extends her hand to Techno, staring right into his eyes. "Techno. We've heard much about _you."_

The pinkette's heart skips a beat. "Lovely. It's very nice to meet you."

"That's enough social interaction," Dream pipes in, stealing Techno's gaze from Mrs. Frost. "Can we continue now?"

Housemother nods. "Of course. My husband is away at his main job right now, but I can take you both through the set-up before we move onto Clay's room. Follow me."

"Distract them for me, please," whispers Techno, into Ranboo's ear.

"Got it."

Techno waits for Housemother to begin leading the Frosts up the steps before pulling Dream through the still open front door. Almost as if the sudden gesture has taken all the air from his lungs, Techno breathlessly pushes Dream up against the brick. Dream doesn't fight him as their eyes switch from right to left and back again, multiple times over.

"I am so sorry," Techno murmurs, through clenched teeth.

"Don't be.."

The older rubs his hands over his cheeks in dissonance, trying to decide whether he should smack Clay Dream or fall into his arms. "I've thought about you every single day, begging Housemother and Housefather to let me see you."

"They must think you're pathetic," humors Dream, though his serious expression hardens.

Techno begins biting his lips again. "I am. I'm pathetic as fuck, Dream, but that doesn't stop me from being driven crazy. What was it like in there, huh? Everything you thought it would be?"

Dream drops to the ground, sitting against the brick as he intently watches the gravel driveway. A bird pecks at something dead, not minding the exchange happening just feet in front of it. The cloudy sky lets out teardrops that aren't big enough to leave more than a pinprick on flustered skin. Still, it's enough for Techno to notice, and maybe that's all that matters to Mother Nature.

"Worse. Cara and Ant showing up made the pain that much more unable to bear. I wished you'd come, but I'm used to being let down, so I wasn't that surprised when the days turned to weeks."

"When.. when did it start subsiding?" Techno slides down the brick, grimacing right next to Dream as he swallows down the lump in his throat. "I want you to tell me everything.."

The blonde finally looks to him again, eyebrows drawn together without a hint of a smile on his mouth. "A couple days ago. I was fucked up on a lot of morphine for a decent chunk of my stay. Every time the low doses would ware off, I'd wake up and scream, begging for someone, something, _anything_ to put me out of my misery."

"What's going to happen to you, Dream? Are you dying? Please, be honest with me.. I have no right to know, but I _want_ to."

Dream rips his gaze away, eyes sparkling with moisture. Techno's stomach pangs, but he cannot find it within himself to regret asking. He's missed Dream so much, and not knowing the truth can no longer spare him. Whatever they are–sworn enemies, acquaintances, mere English partners–it doesn't matter.

"I'm starting chemotherapy, Techno. Since I'm not a legal adult, I did not have a say in the matter. Dr. Astor finally took his advice over to Ant and Cara, and they signed off on it. I have no choice. I'm done running for the rest of forever, even though my forever is about thirty-five fucking years. I'm so angry! So fucking angry.."

"What?! How can they do that? Dream, you don't even live with them!"

The younger hastily wipes at his eyes. "I'd soon rather die than give up on running. I have no authority over myself, though. It's over for me. I'm never getting to nationals. You should be happy, shouldn't you? This is what you wanted, Techno! My downfall is here! Why aren't you celebrating?"

"Dream, stop.."

"The orphan is dying!"

"Dream.."

"Three cheers for the sick boy! He's losing everything!"

"Dream..!"

"It's all over now!"

"DREAM!"

Techno grabs onto Dream's flaming cheeks, wet eyes to wet eyes. Salty tears drip from Dream's waterlines, trailing down Techno's hands and marking his body with the sorrow that the orphan boy always carries with him, hidden to the world, but not to Techno Blade. Dream slumps into Techno's arm, and the boys hold each other tight as tears stain the backs of each other's shirts. The blonde's fingers dig into Techno's skin with uncomfortable force, but Techno doesn't stop him. He'll never stop him.

"Clay! Clay, where'd you run off to?" Cara calls, from inside the house.

Dream pulls back, swatting at his nose. "We've gotta go back.."

"Wait! Wait, Dream.. What are they even doing here?" Techno questions, unable to let go of Dream's sleeve. "What if we could convince them together, huh? That you need to get to nationals before chemo.."

"It's no use, Techno. They're here to assess the place and decide whether I should keep receiving treatment in my own quarters or.. be moved into a hospital, full-time."

The pinkette shakes his head. "What? You go to the hospital all the time anyways! There's no need to move you into one.."

"Not just the local hospital, Techno. A university hospital in New York that can monitor me 24/7 and conduct studies on the lonesome orphan with dead parents that's dying of sickle cell disease at seventeen."

"No! No, no, NO! That's not going to happen. Look at me, Dream." So much tension and pent up rage stands between them, but it feels all velvety smooth when their hands collide and interlock like they were made for one another. "You're going to nationals, Clay Dream, and I'm going to stand by you through it all. No one's taking you away, okay? You're the best speedrunner in the pacific northwest, and sickle cell anemia isn't going to take that away from you just yet. Don't give up on yourself! Hear me? I simply won't allow it!"

The younger lowly giggles, squeezing Techno's thin hands between his own. "Why do you care so much? This isn't how this is supposed to be.."

"Maybe we're destined to be rivals, but that doesn't mean we can't also give a damn. I'll be the first to admit it, actually. I care about you, Dream. I care about you so fucking much, and this world will have to pry you out of my hands if it insists on stealing you from me. I always get what I want, and I want you to live out your teenage dreams."

Dream's genuine smile makes a special appearance as they both dive back into each other's arms at once. "I care about you too. What's your plan with Ant and Cara, huh?"

Techno squeezes him especially lustfully while responding, "A little secret I like to call Dadza."

~

"Are you sure you feel too shitty to go? There's gonna be karaoke, Techno!" exclaims Wilbur, clasping his hands together as he pouts out his bottom lip.

Techno rolls his eyes, pulling the blankets up to his chest. "Sing _Mr. Brightside_ for me."

"Oh, come on. Everybody who's everybody is gonna be there! You promised you'd be my wingman for Niki Nihachu."

"Have Tommy back you up, Will. He'll probably do better than me, anyways.." Techno lies.

The brunette adjusts his solid black turtleneck and flicks the singular hoop of shimmering gold hooked in his left earlobe. "At least tell me how good I look."

"You look wonderful, brother. Niki's going to fall in love, okay? Really, I'd like to get some sleep now."

Wilbur sticks his tongue out. "All right, Techie. I'll see you when I get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Will."

The younger twin sweetly smiles while waving, shutting his bedside lamp off before he leaves. As soon as Wilbur walks through the doorway, Karl enters. He's looking just as beautiful as usual, curls cropped right above his downturned eyes. Karl's wearing a vintage sweater with pink paisleys embroidered into the fabric and a pair of ripped skinny jeans that conform to the curve of his thighs.

"Hey, Techno," Karl whispers, sitting on the edge of Techno's bed and cupping his boyfriend's face. "I'm so sad you don't feel well enough to hang tonight. I know things have been rough lately, but I just want you to know that I'm here for you, okay? Things are gonna start getting better."

"Thanks, Karl. You guys have fun tonight. But.. not _too_ much fun, 'kay?"

Karl nods and leans down to kiss his forehead. "Never. If you're not asleep when we all get back home, maybe we could.. uh.. spend the night together? I'm sure I can talk Alex into bunking with Wilbur for the night.."

Techno tries to grin. "Yeah. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweet boy," says Karl, his fingertips caressing across Techno's nose and lips before finally leaving.

The pinkette turns over in his bed, shutting his eyes tightly to try and force himself into a hazy sleep. He can hear the distant sound of feet pattering outside in the hallway as his housemates prepare for a Saturday night on the town. Normally, Techno is keen on being the center of attention when hanging out with friends, but the party is just not in him right now. It hasn't been for quite awhile, to be perfectly honest.

Unable to find comfort in his position, Techno flips over once again, letting out a huge sigh. His joints can't seem to agree with the mattress. His heart and mind sure as hell can't handle sleep. Techno exasperatedly sits up, hair falling around his shoulders. He aches for something he can't quite put his finger on, but he knows he'll have no chance of finding it by playing sick in bed. Techno quickly ties his waves up, baby hairs refusing to be tamed by the ponytail holder.

"What's happened to you, Techno?" he asks his reflection, squinting into the darkened mirror as he steps across the room. "You're supposed to be strong. Blood-thirsty. Powerful. Everyone is supposed to be loyal to _you._ Where did you go wrong?"

"Who're you talking to you?" questions a voice, from the other side of his door.

Techno spins around, startled as ever. "Dream? You scared me!"

"Sorry. I was wandering around when I heard you talking.."

"Do you wander a lot?"

Dream's eyes flit down to the floor. "Sometimes. It's how I keep my blood flowing. I don't particularly like when my appendages turn blue and are cold to the touch.. So, why aren't you going out tonight?"

The older shrugs, nearing the doorway. "I don't feel like being social."

"That's a first for you. Anything you wanna talk about?"

Techno rolls his eyes. "No thanks. I'm not one to discuss feelings, whatever those are."

"Well, you seem to have a lot of _feelings_ for the new boyfriend of yours," Dream comments, raising an eyebrow.

"So, you heard about that? Yeah, I guess we're dating."

The blonde crosses the threshold between their two worlds, entering Techno and Wilbur's room with only a slight bit of hesitation. "You guess? What does that mean?"

"Nothing at all, Dream."

"Ominous. I suppose I'll leave you be now, Techno. Goodnight, okay?"

Dream begins to step out of the bedroom, but Techno can't help himself any longer. He rushes over to the younger and pulls him back into the room. Dream is smirking, which makes Techno's skin crawl with imminent and unfathomable anger, a complete and total reaction. Still, he doesn't let go of Dream's shoulder.

"Don't leave me."

He side-eyes Techno. "What, so you get to leave me when I want you to stay, but I'm supposed to stay when you want me to?"

"Yes," Techno boldly answers, refusing to back down.

"Okay, Techno. I'll stay with you."

Techno quietly shuts his bedroom door and guides Dream over to his bed. He climbs in first, beckoning Dream to lie on top of the sheets with him. When they used to look at each other in the eyes, it was always with so much hate and dread, but now, it feels like talking without saying a single word at all. They face each other, silently breathing in each other's personal spaces, as Techno slowly slinks his hand up Dream's side.

"Can I ask you a question?" softly mumbles Techno.

Dream nods. "Anything at all."

The pinkette's fingertips gently rub across Dream's back. "How does it make you feel when I touch you?"

"Terrified.. Sublime.."

"Come here, Dream," Techno murmurs.

Techno opens his arms, allowing Dream to curl up in his grip and nuzzle his chest. Dream's body slightly quivers as he wraps his own arms around Techno and twirls the ends of that silky hair, as bubblegum pink as ever, around his fingers. Techno's eyes finally manage to stay closed for the first time in days. With Dream safely tucked in his arms, everything that's been fighting within Techno's brain is silenced, welcoming a world of serenity and all encompassing peace.

"Never let me go.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is all of this seemingly endless slow burn about to pay off? Stay tuned to find out! Kudos are much appreciated. :) Follow me on Twitter, @ phantomsunsets, for daily updates and chaotic posts. Ever since starting this account, I've met many wonderful people and am so glad to call them my friends. Leave a comment with theories, critiques, general thoughts, or questions below! I read and love 'em all. :D <3


	9. When The Time Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someday soon, you'll come around;  
> You know where I can be found.  
> When your heart feels right, seek me out;  
> We can talk more then, babe, but right now...
> 
> I just want to let you know that I will stand by you;  
> Through whatever might come, wherever you run.  
> Will you stand by me when the time comes?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! Here is Chapter 9, the LONGEST installment of You Wreck Me ever!! I'm very proud of this one. Hope you enjoy! :)

Vanilla earthquakes rattle the ocean floors of velvet, opening up and swallowing the bitter deep in tumultuous waves. The liquid glass gurgles as the earth drinks it in, taking the cosmic dust and ancient dirt with it. Roaring winds of neon daisies and raw glycerin fill the vacant void where the oceans can no longer rule. This mock, unending beauty exists only here, where the two boys hold hands, swirling away in the forever sun-kissed tide.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" demands the booming voice of God.

The planet stops shaking as the crust reforms, pushing the salty society of water back into place. The glass settles again, nice and steady, to house the ecosystems of sea-breathing livelihoods. Their hands part as they're thrown into the sky daisies and elemental clouds, Techno's eyes ripping open and pupils shrinking to pinpricks at once.

Above Techno's bed stands a vibrant and fiery figure cast in painful sunlight. Wilbur glares down at him, and Techno doesn't think too much of it at first, only feeling rash annoyance with a hint of the weekend lust to sleep in. That is, until, Techno takes notice of the boy still lazily wrapped in his bare arms. Dream's messy hair tickles his nose as he drools directly onto Techno's chest, mouth agape, sleeping through the chaos happening around him.

"Wilbur.." Techno whispers.

"I know my fucking name! Is that _thing_ in your bed dead?"

Techno begins to violently swat at Dream's back to get him to wake up, wiping the fresh saliva from his mouth in the process. His heavy-lidded orbs slowly open, a smile forming on his red, wet mouth as he smiles at the pinkette his arms are cuddles around. Dream nuzzles back into Techno's chest, tightening his grip.

"Good morning, sunshine," he mumbles, absent-mindedly twirling a lock of pink around his pointer finger.

Wilbur leans down to Dream's eye level. "Wake up, sleepy bitch! What the hell is happening in here, huh? Both of you, explain yourselves at once!"

"Oh, shit.." Dream's joints sound as if they're shattering as he untangles himself from Techno and sits upright at the end of the bed. "It's not at all what it looks like.."

"Well, then what the fuck is it, huh? Jesus Christ, Techno! Ya know, when we all got home last night, Karl was so excited to come up here and see you! I had to lie to him and force him not to come wake you and find you canoodling with your sworn enemy! So, what, you're cheating on your boyfriend with the dirty cretin of the boarding house, huh? Tell me, Techno Blade!"

The older twin clenches his fists while snarling at Wilbur. "I'm not cheating on Karl! How could you accuse me of something like that?"

"Dream was in your arms all night!" Wilbur shouts, smashing his palms against his temples with an irate tone. "Who are you? And, what are you trying to prove?"

Dream stumbles to his feet, blocking Wilbur and Techno from viewing each other with hate boiling in their eyes. "Wilbur, this is my fault. I came in here last night, completely unprompted, and guilted Techno into letting me stay. We didn't do anything you suspect, okay? If you want to be mad at someone, choose me. Techno didn't undermine Karl.. or you."

Wilbur snorts. "He undermined me by bringing you in here to start with. I suggest you run off to your little ant hill, 'kay? You will not corrupt my brother any further. GET OUT!"

"Yes, fine. Sorry, Wilbur. Sorry.. Techno.."

The blonde gives Techno a pained look as he races out of the twin's bedroom. Techno feels his heart lurch for the warm body that he slept so soundly and comfortably with last night. With Dream next to him, everything bad in Techno's complicated life with so many differing emotions seems to dissolve away into a symbiosis that he can comprehend.. and _love._ Wilbur gazes sorrowfully at his dearest brother, his twin that has always been beside him, as Techno mutters an apology and goes after Dream, no longer able to keep his yearning at bay.

"Dream! Wait, please! Don't go!" Techno dashes directly for him, landing right in his arms as they share a tight hug, fingertips digging into each other's backs. "We aren't leaving each other, remember? I'm fighting for you.."

Dream is the first to pull away, placing a hand onto Techno's neck as his pulse flutters. "What does this make us, Techno? You just ran out on your brother for me.."

"I don't know, honestly. I just cannot fathom spending a second away from you, okay? Let me in, please. Let me into your life."

Techno falls back into Dream's arms, no longer caring who the hell catches them or belittles Techno for taking such a criminal interest in the school's outcast. His eyes shut as Dream's hands run the full length of Techno's never-ending hair. Techno buries his face in the nape of Dream's neck, relishing in the physical affection that he has only allowed himself to give just a few special times in his life. He can tell just by the flush of Dream's skin that he desires Techno's touch just as much as he wants to give it.

"You're in, Techno. Three weeks ago, we were suspended from school for trying to kill each other, and now, I want to be with you during every waking moment. You're in my life, Techno. You are _part_ of my life, Techno," Dream softly professes.

The pinkette smiles as those arms squeeze him harder. "Good to know. I'm right here for you. What can I do to prove it? I have a lot to make-up for. I've wronged you in the worst ways.."

Dream's hands clasp Techno's hips. "Come to my doctor's appointment with me today. I could really use the emotional support. I could really use.. you."

"Yes, deal. Then, I'll finally reveal my plan to get your chemotherapy postponed. Do you, uh.. mind meeting my dad today?" Techno hesitantly asks, finally pulling back from their second hug.

"Absolutely not. I have a lot of questions for Mr. Blade."

Techno lightly giggles as Dream cups both of his cheeks. "I'm sure he'll have just as many for you! Come on, Dream. I want breakfast."

They share a simple, delicate gaze before breaking into a run, heading for the staircase and laughing like maniacs as they race each other to the bottom. For one moment in time, they are just normal teen boys acting like hyenas on a regular Sunday morning, not caring about school, social status, allegiances, or the fact that one of them is getting closer to death with each minute he spends getting to know the other rather than trying to halt the rapid advancement of his serious, painful, _life-threatening_ disease.

In fact, they don't even notice the other boy that has been spying on them in the long hallway of the 1800s boarding house. But, Karl has seen and heard every little aspect of their exchange.

~

Dream watches Techno with a slight smile on his lips from his place on the medical table he lies on, shirt off and entire abdomen on full display. Techno keeps glancing up from the top of the book in his hands, _Lord of the Flies,_ to meet those sparkling eyes before shifting his gaze back down to the book. The reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose don't do him any favors in the beauty department, but it seems as though Dream doesn't care. That, or he's just infatuated with the space buns Tommy messily tied his hair into over a pancake breakfast.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer," Techno sneers, flipping the page.

"Nurse said I'm not supposed to move."

The pinkette blows a long strand of his bangs away from his eyes. "Since when do you listen?"

"Is that an insult? I thought we were past that!" Dream rolls his eyes. "Some things never change, I guess."

Techno shakes his head. "Don't get the wrong idea, Dream. We're still rivals. I just happen to not despise your presence anymore."

"I hypothesize that you never did in the first place."

Another page turns as Techno mumbles, "You'd lose that bet."

"Good thing I'm not the gambling type."

The older smirks, resuming his light reading as Dream continues to watch him. The light from the nearby window illuminates his pale chest and ribs, but Techno only dares to peek once he's sure Dream has cast his gaze to something else in the sterile, eerily quiet room. As summer turns into fall just beyond the square of glass, the days seem to become longer while leaving the rich taste of autumn on innocent tongues. Techno's mind conjures images of sipping hot chocolate under a blanket as the ravens caw into the sunburst evenings.

Though the air is beginning to crystallize with cool hints of frost, Techno is wearing a thin, black camisole that's cropped above his bellybutton. It's much different from anything Wilbur would wear, a sucker for beanies and sweaters in the dead of summer, or Tommy's boyish clothing of baggy jeans and a handful of solid color tees, for he's yet to grasp the handle of fashion yet. And, maybe, just _maybe,_ that's what Dream focuses on when he looks over to Techno who's wetting his fingertips with saliva to turn the pages of the book lent from Dream. He's exposed in the spaghetti-strapped top, even more exposed than shirtless Dream. Their eyes accidentally lock as they both seem to go in for a tasty glance at once.

"Knock, knock," alerts a voice, as he pushes open the door. "Clay! And, you've brought a lady. Are you Clay's girlfriend?"

Techno lowers the book covering his face and removes his reading glasses. "No, I'm simply his associate," Techno answers, purposely deepening his already husky voice.

The doctor's eyes widen with embarrassment. "My apologies, sir. I'm Dr. Astor. And, you are?"

"Dave," he confidently asserts, standing at once and extending a hand to the doctor. "But, you can call me Techno. Or Dave. I don't particularly care."

Dr. Astor awkwardly smiles. "Nice to meet you, Dave. Shall we begin, then?"

"Yeah," Dream answers, placing his palms on his bare stomach. "My vitals have been slightly off ever since returning from the hospital, once again. I know I'm not coming on with another pain crisis."

"Those are typical signs of an impending.. _something._ That something could be anything from a stroke, to organ failure, to a simple cold. It's hard to tell. That's why it's imperative we have you on chemotherapy treatments within the span of a month."

Dream sighs. "I figured you'd say that. What if it's just anxiety?"

The older man shoves his freshly washed hands into a pair of blue gloves as he pulls a medical cart to Dream's side. "Is it ever anxiety with sickle cell, Clay? You know better. Stay perfectly still."

"I'm not even the patient, and I can tell you that's a no. Still, I'm sure you know good and well that Dream, here, is a fantastic runner, currently competing against our high school's other champion track kid to get to the United States nationals, yes?" Techno asks, nearing the side of the table across from Dr. Astor.

Dr. Astor nods as he uncaps the red lumen and begins scrubbing the tip with an alcohol wipe, eyes never leaving his work. "I am. Are you aware that most sickle cell patients do not live past their early forties?"

"I've gathered that. If you think Dream is going to die as young as he is, then why not give him a few extra months to achieve his goals in life?"

At last, those cold eyes meet Techno's blazing ones. "He could very well die before then. His body should not be put through a single _day_ more of running."

The doctor unwraps a syringe printed with the label of "0.9% sodium chloride solution" before screwing it into the sanitized lumen and slowly pushing the liquid through his port. Dream's neck is straining to watch, and it pains Techno to see him so unnerved. Techno delicately places a hand under Dream's neck, easing him to relax and look at him instead of what's happening on his chest. The blonde's expression softens as he interlaces his fingers with Techno's free hand.

"If he doesn't have forever to live, he _should_ have forever to do something that makes him want to live. The fact that you stripped this decision from him and went to his foster parents that he don't even live with is possibly one of the grossest acts I could ever imagine."

Dream's lips quiver. "He steals the words right from my mouth."

"Glad you could bring in some good company, Clay. I do not feel I have to explain my actions, for I'm only doing what is best for my patient. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to continue on with the exam," Dr. Astor snaps.

When the saline syringe is empty, instead of unscrewing it, Dr. Astor begins sucking blood through the line until it reaches the tip of the hub. Then, he pushes it back into Dream's body, clearing the line again. He repeats this process of drawing blood to the syringe and then feeding it back into Dream's chest a few times over.

"What exactly are you doing?" Techno asks, never one for respecting other's wishes.

"Aspirating his blood."

Techno rolls his eyes. "I don't know what that means."

"I can explain it," Dream pipes, Techno averting his attention back to the boy in the bed. "Dr. Astor is drawing my blood for testing, to see what my oxygen level is, the amount of red blood cells in my system, and various other things of the sort. It'll be able to tell if my organs are actually failing or not."

The pinkette grins. "Well, aren't you smart?"

"Trust me, I used to ask the same questions when I was a little boy. It warms my heart to know that you're _so_ interested in my health."

Dr. Astor clears his throat while detaching the saline syringe and hooking a new one into the red lumen. "Clay, I feel that we should discuss your chemotherapy treatments."

Dream lets out a long sigh. "Right now? I still don't plan on going through with this. I'm going to do everything in my power to get out of this, you know."

"Good luck with that, son. The only way you can survive without chemotherapy is.. something too risky for me to even talk to you about."

Both Dream and Techno perk up at this underhanded comment. "What might that be, Doctor? I have a right to know!" Dream demands.

"Give it a rest, Clay. You're more likely to die on the operating table than actually yield results. I really think you should just agree with me, this one damn time."

"Neither of us are agreeing with you! Withholding vital information from your patient is a federal offense, and I will spend the rest of my _long_ life working to put you behind bars unless you tell us what the fuck this mysterious option is!" shouts Techno, gripping Dream's hand even tighter.

Dr. Astor groans while removing the new syringe of blood and beginning the painstaking process of transferring it to a glass tube. "You are one of the most hotheaded young men I have ever met in my fifty-three years on this planet, Dave.

"Thanks. Now, get to blabbing."

As soon as the vial is capped, Dr. Astor faces both of the boys. "A bone marrow transplant could, in theory, take your disease away. Clay, there is only a 60% survival rate for this operation, and that's even if you find a donor, which is 80% impossible. I'm not discussing this any further with you, got it? The Frosts signed off on chemotherapy, and that's _final._ I'm putting my foot down here and now. You _are_ getting chemo, Clay!"

The doctor hastily pumps in another ten milliliter syringe of saline, scrubs the hub with an alcohol pad, and clamps it back up before disposing of the used materials and leaving the room without another word. Dream's eyes are transfixed on the ceiling with dilated pupils. Techno places his palm against Dream's chest and hovers over him.

"We have to go to Phil's _now._ It's time we finally get you out of this situation because that fucking operation could cure you. Let's go!" Techno insists.

"Techno.." Dream swallows down the lump in his throat that has been growing over the course of the appointment. "I could live a normal life.."

The pinkette hastily nods. "It's going to happen, Dream. Your fight isn't over."

~

"Dad! Dadza! Phil! Philip Blade! Open the goddamn door!"

Techno repeatedly pounds against his father's apartment door, no doubt alerting the whole complex of his presence. Dream idles behind him, hands pressed together as he looks at Techno with a startled expression, one eyebrow raised in slight confusion. Still, the pinkette uses both of his fists to knock as he yells for his dear father. The door rattles and seems to be close to giving out just as it swings open, causing Techno to stumble inside.

"Techno, I swear on God's green earth, I'm going to strangle-" Phil begins, only stopping when he notices Dream standing near him. "I mean, son! Such a pleasant surprise. What brings you around? I thought my children weren't coming over today.."

"I thought you were dead! You took _forever_ to answer!" Techno scolds.

Phil rolls his eyes. "Well, when I hear my door being broken down, I don't particularly want to find out what kind of bear is trying to claw its way inside. Come to find out, it's just my darling Techno.. and uh..? Oh! Pardon my manners, child. You must be Karl."

Dream's orbs double in size. "Well, actually, Mr. Blade-"

"Come right inside. It's so lovely to finally meet you! Don't bother with the formal shit; that's just for my students. The boys call me Dadza, and I encourage you to as well." Phil gathers Dream in his arms and gives him a hard pat on the back. "Welcome to the family, Karl."

Techno awkwardly attempts to interject, "Dadza, that's actually-"

"Do you like tea, son? I can start the kettle and get some brewing right away."

"FATHER!"

Finally, the overly excited man stops his happy rant, turning to Techno with a rather scornful look on his face. "God, Techno, why're you being so needy right now? I'm trying to make your boyfriend feel at home."

"Dadza, this isn't Karl! That's Clay Dream.."

Phil's cheeks immediately lose their rosy hue. "Oh. Oh! _Oh.._ Dream, I do apologize for the mix-up here. Techno has told me so much about you."

The blonde side-eyes Techno while asking, "Is that so?"

"Do we really have to go over the logistics of how much I talk about certain people? I'm almost positive I've told Dadza about everyone in the house multiple times! Hell, I probably talk about.. uh.. _Alex.._ more than I talk of you!"

"Who's Alex?" Phil questions, much to the disdain of Techno and the delight of Dream.

Techno glares at his father. "Enough of that. Dad, we need your help."

"Oh no, what'd you do?"

His son rapidly shakes his head. "We don't require your assistance getting out of trouble, actually. That's more of a Tommy thing, huh? Dream, tell him what's going on with you."

Dream gives Techno an unsure look, but Techno holds firm. "Uh, all right. Mr. Blade, er.. Dadza. Should I still call you Dadza? Never mind. I, uh, I have sickle cell anemia, and my foster parents signed off on chemotherapy treatments, even though I want to continue running until I find out if I'm in nationals or not. Once I start chemo, I'll never be able to run again. No offense, Techno, but what does my disease have to do with your father?"

"Beautiful question, Dream. Dadza, you heard the man! His foster parents, these two absolutely brainless fuckers, are _forcing_ him to get chemotherapy. He doesn't even live with them! Tell me you know what I'm getting at.."

Phil nods at Techno with a half-smile forming on his thin lips. "I think I do. Dream, what assistance do you get from your foster parents?"

"Uh, nothing? I mean, I guess their insurance also umbrellas over me, but I get a lot of government aid for my condition. Plus, my parents left everything to me, and I receive monthly payments that cover any and all expenses I could ever imagine."

He looks off into the distance, deep in thought. "Yes, yes. They gather money for looking after you, in the sense that you are their responsibility, yes? But, you live at the boarding house and don't use _their_ money.."

"Exactly! What does that mean for me, though?"

"Dream, there's something I never told you about my father," says Techno, smiling rather connivingly at his rival. "He was emancipated from foster care at sixteen."

Dream's mouth practically falls open at such news. "What?! How the hell did you do it, Mr. Blade?"

"Dadza's still fine, son. Honestly, I was very lost for a long time, but I got lucky enough to fall into the hands of people that could guide me in the right direction. Maybe, perhaps, possibly.. I could help you become emancipated."

The blonde immediately slaps a hand over his still open mouth and falls right into Techno's arms. "Techno Blade, thank you so much."

"Please, it's the least I could do," whispers Techno, gripping him with all of his might while locking eyes with Phil. "I am here for you, Dream. Always and forever."

"I'm proud of you, Techno. Why don't we talk about this all over dinner, huh? You two could help me cook something."

Techno smiles as their hug breaks. "That's perfect! Dadza, could we stay the night? You wouldn't mind, would you, Dream?"

Dream shakes his head. "Not at all! I'll have to get my medical supplies for this evening and tomorrow morning, plus school clothes, but then, I'll be good to go."

"Fine with me, boys. Let's cook and eat first. Afterwards, you two can head back to the boarding house and gather your things. I'll call Housemother to let her know of our plans," Phil states, already heading into the kitchen. "Hurry along now, kids."

The teenagers share a sweet grin as Dream lightly shoves Techno. Techno returns the touch, feeling pure joy and unwavering love towards life for the first time in so long. Those two weeks without Dream really put a damper on his sense of self, but he feels revitalized again, stronger than he ever has been before. Techno doesn't want to have to let go of his precious Dream.

With luck, he may never have to.

~

**Ranboo's POV**

The days pass with mental animosity at a snail's slithering pace, but when Ranboo looks back on them, he becomes eerily confused at how time has flown by his lanky fingertips without so much as a kiss on the cheek. Laying back and evaluating the wreckage the passage of time has left with him feels like concentrated chlorine on his baby skin. He doesn't like to think, for the ruins of his mind are haunted with fragments of memories he can't seem to piece together without the smudged pen ink lining his multiple journals. Still, even _they_ can't shed light on the darkest corners of his brain.

Distractions are the only means of getting him by. Ranboo is easily pleased, as well as easily frightened and saddened and hurt. He derives joy from many mundane things, for sometimes it takes just the slightest activities to turn off the white noise of solitude. Spending time with his best friend, Fundy, is Ranboo's favorite distraction, for Fundy can talk for hours without ever letting the conversation falter. He also enjoys sticking in his earbuds and turning the volume of his music up to max. Even homework helps his mind not to wander, which is amazing considering he likes school and does well in it.

Today, though, Ranboo is alone, not having shoved himself in a social situation. Yeah, they make his entire soul cringe, but at least he can drown out his thoughts when conversing with his friends. He sits in the common room, television off and house dormant. It's Sunday evening, and all the other boys have busied themselves with other things, whether inside or outside of the house. To keep his emotions in check, Ranboo has taken to finger painting on the floor. He wipes at his pale cheek with a purple stained wrist while dipping two fingers on his other hand in pink paint. This picture will go to Tubbo when he's finished.

Ranboo leans back and admires the tulip surrounded by bees on the canvas in front of him. Tubbo absolutely adores bees, and Ranboo can almost picture the wholesome look on the short boy's face as he presents the painting to him. He lets out a happy sigh while standing up, lanky legs crackling like fireworks, as he begins to trail into the parlor in search of more paper. Someone or something from the porch casts a shadow on the ground as he passes, causing Ranboo to dash behind the staircase as the front door opens.

"Get your meds and clothes, okay? I'll be back down after I finish packing and find my schoolbag," says Techno, as he and another pause at the end of stairs.

"Yeah, perfect," Dream comments, as Ranboo peeks through the railing to watch them. "I can't believe your dad is actually willing to help me get out of foster care. I'm still floored, Techno."

Techno caresses Dream's face with the back of his hand. "This is the beginning of your life, Dream. Wait for me here, okay?"

The blonde eagerly nods. "I'll be right in this very spot."

"I know you will," Techno gushes, gently waving before he takes off up the staircase.

Ranboo dares to get a little closer, paint-covered hands now holding onto the railing as he watches Karl enter into the parlor from the kitchen. He glances at the stairs before grabbing onto Dream's arm right as he's about to enter his bedroom. Dream hesitantly backs away from him, eyebrows drawn together in mistrust.

"Hi, Dream. What are your plans for the evening?" asks Karl.

Dream lets go of his doorknob. "Well, if you were listening in, then you must know.."

"I have an inkling." Karl closes the gap between them, hands behind his back almost as if he's hiding something that Ranboo can't quite make-out. "I've actually been wanting to talk to you about something."

"Another time, okay? I'm in a hurry."

The brunette blocks Dream's door. "I know you are. Doesn't matter. You know that Techno is my boyfriend, right? Don't even answer that, actually. Of course, you do! Listen, I love him more than anyone else on this planet, but I would feel too _guilty_ if I kept this from you.."

"What do you mean by that? What do you know?"

Karl smirks almost involuntarily before frowning once more. "He's a good person, deep down. But, he just doesn't like you, Dream.."

"Thanks, Karl, but we've actually move passed all that," Dream states, crossing his arms.

"Oh, you poor thing.. You don't know, do you?"

Dream huffs. "Know what?"

The older pulls Dream's lime green hoodie out from behind his back. "I found this under his bed after a particularly hot and heavy night we had while I was searching for my misplaced clothes. Haven't you been looking for it?"

"Yes!" Dream snatches it from Karl's hands. "But.. Techno said he didn't take it. He _knows_ how much this hoodie means to me!"

Karl shrugs. "Why do you trust him, knowing he has hated you since you moved in here? Dream, you're probably a fine guy, but Techno has single-handedly taken every opportunity away from you. You don't have friends because of him. He basically ripped your shot at nationals to shreds. He got you suspended! Why the hell would you forgive him?"

"I.. I don't know, Karl. He's shown me a different version of himself.. Techno has been there for me lately, and I really thought he felt bad for what he's done.."

Ranboo's heart lurches as he creeps around the staircase to watch them closer up. He can barely breathe, for fear of disturbing the scene in front of him. Techno really does care about Dream, and Ranboo is sure of it. He wouldn't have come to Ranboo with an apology or seeking advice if he didn't mean any of it.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Dream, you shouldn't have been so blind. Techno is very clever with his schemes. The entire time you were hospitalized, Housemother begged him to go visit you, but he wouldn't. Techno was cracking jokes left and right about your condition.. and even your deceased parents. He's playing you, Dream," Karl admits, placing a hand on Dream's shoulder.

Dream whacks it off. "This can't be! He told me he wasn't allowed to come.."

"He lied!" Karl sighs while rubbing his temples. "Techno has even been in cahoots with Kye Illumina about making sure you _never_ get to nationals. He's not your friend."

"Karl.." whimpers Dream, the hurt apparent on his reddened cheeks.

Karl smiles. "I know it's a lot to take in. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I feel responsible for keeping my boyfriend out of trouble."

"Thanks.. I guess. God. Fuck! FUCK! I'm so fucking stupid!" Dream kicks at his bedroom door with a force that makes Ranboo want to take cover from an incoming strike. "Techno never cared about me, did he?"

"Nope. Sorry, Dreamy."

Dream wipes at his eyes with the green hoodie. "I need to go. Tell Techno he fucking won."

Ranboo longs to dash after Dream as he speeds directly out of Boarding House 7, slamming the door in his wake. He has to paw at his own eyes to keep from sobbing right then and there, but before he can even process what's just happened, Karl is staring at him with a look of hate.

"I know you heard everything. If you go crying to Techno with even a single word I just said to his sweet Dream, you'll be on my shit list. I swear to God, Ranboo! You'll beg for death after I'm done with you."

The younger's eyes widen as he stutters, "I-I won't say.. say anything t-to Techno!"

"Good boy." Karl fixes his posture as Techno comes running down the steps. "There's my boyfriend! You've been gone all day, my love. Where're you off to?"

"Hey, Karl. Ranboo. Just back to Phil's for the night. Have you seen Dream?" Techno questions, glancing toward Dream's door.

Karl nods. "Yeah, honey, he just left. He looked really angry or something. Right, Ranboo?"

Ranboo's lips quiver. "Y-yeah. Real angry."

"That's.. strange. I.. I.." Techno looks down at the floor with pain in his eyes. "Never mind, I guess. I'm not going to Phil's."

The eldest boy wraps an arm around Techno and cheers, "Well, that's great news for me! Let's go upstairs and have a cuddle, 'mkay? You look like you could use one. Have a good evening, Ranboo, yeah?"

"I will.." Ranboo murmurs.

Techno's eyes don't lift from the ground as Karl begins guiding him up the steps, glaring at Ranboo with the heat of a thousand suns while Ranboo stands at the bottom of the staircase, arms wrapped around his own body for comfort. The thoughts that he's been shutting out all day come raining down on him in waves, causing him to collapse to the floor while whining inaudibly for relief. Tears stain Ranboo's cheeks as the sharp pains in his brain and heart manifest into Karl repeatedly stabbing him, making him an accomplice to the hateful lies.

Ranboo is utterly terrified and unsure of what to do.

If only the agony would stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much ANGST. So much EMOTION. Are you crying? I'm crying. Thank you to Potya for the idea of having Ranboo's POV; I think it really added an extra bit of beauty and sorrow to the story! I'd love for you all to leave me comments with your thoughts, opinions, theories, questions... ANYTHING! I read every single one. <3
> 
> See you next Sunday! Follow me on Twitter for updates, teasers, and memes! >> @ phantomsunsets <<


	10. Straight Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't believe the good times are over;  
> I don't believe the thrill is all gone.  
> Real love is a man's salvation;  
> The weak ones fall, the strong carry on.
> 
> We went straight into darkness;  
> Out over the line."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody! It's the best day of the week~ Chapter 10 is here, and I hope everyone likes it. Enjoy!

Sanctity only exists in the mind, for the world is a very poisonous place. The cold night seems to affirm Techno's suspicions that every little thing is evil and ugly as he shivers in his sheets, head buried beneath his pillow. He can't fall asleep, though, and the only reason Wilbur isn't awake from the sound of chattering teeth is because Techno's full on biting the pillow at this point. His skin aches for human warmth, which he was supposed to be relishing in on this scornful night, but his bed is painfully empty besides his own, soulless figure.

As if Techno can't become more afraid, he makes out the sound of the door lightly creaking open. A terrible dread sticks pins and needles into his skin as he realizes his fears have manifested. He's going to be murdered in this bed, and Wilbur's definitely next. Techno holds his breath, awaiting the feeling of a pitchfork piercing through his guts, but when a weak hand begins tugging on his arm, he throws off the pillow and dares to stare his killer in the eyes.

It's Tommy.

"What the hell are you doing in here? It's 4 o'clock in the morning!" Techno scolds, in a hushed whisper.

Tommy's lips quiver. "I had a nightmare, Tech."

"And? You're fourteen! At your big age, you brush it off, think about boobs, and go back to sleep.."

"Techno, I'm serious! It was a really bad one. Dadza died, and you and Wilby left me all alone. It was horrible! You wouldn't do that, would you? Abandon me if Dad died?" asks Tommy, his voice cracking.

Techno sighs, scooting over in his bed. "Absolutely not. Now, get in, you trash goblin. My offer will only extend for five seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two-"

"All right!" Tommy immediately crawls in next to his big brother and pushes his body as close as humanly possible to Techno's. "Hey, this feels like childhood in California."

"What does?" questions Wilbur, sliding into Techno's bed on the opposite side of Tommy.

With the three growing brothers all crammed in Techno's twin bed, there is hardly a gulp of oxygen to drink in, and their limbs are all folded up and tangled together. Still, Techno's shaking has almost completely ceased upon feeling the comforting and familiar heat of his dear brothers. Wilbur's brown eyes glint in the darkness to let Techno knows he's right there and that he forgives Techno for their fight yesterday.

"Oh, Wilby! I had a really bad nightmare. I'm all better now that you're here, though. Doesn't this feel like our bed in California?"

Wilbur's gaze glazes over as he seems to think back upon their life that he and Techno lived until starting high school. Living in California was amazing for the first half of their lives, and Techno fondly remembers the days where he and Wilbur would swim in their own in-ground pool before shooting hoops in the backyard while running back and forth from the swing set to trampoline. After their day of play, their mother would have prepared an excellent dinner that the whole family would partake in together before the twins kissed each other goodnight and retired to their respective rooms in different wings of the house.

But, their life of simple luxury ended when their mother left. Her parting was abrupt to her three children, ages ten and seven at the time. Techno had never seen his brave and prominent father so broken before, for she was the light of his life. But, Mrs. Blade had found companionship in another man. Although their mother had come from wealth and worked to pay a majority of the expenses in the lives of her, her husband, and her children, she didn't seem to mind running out on them.

Phil sold their childhood home soon after, and working to support three growing boys on a school teacher's salary, he moved them all into a very small apartment with just two tiny bedrooms. Techno and Wilbur shared one room with a twin bed until fourteen years of age. Tommy and Phil slept in the other room, but Tommy oftentimes ventured into the twins' bed late at night when their father was too deep in sleep to wake up after Tommy had a bad dream.

Four years into living off scraps and having a distant father that worked full-time teaching and two draining part-time jobs, Phil landed his job at a prestigious boarding school in upstate Oregon. There, tuition would be wavered for all of his sons, and they would receive a wonderful education. It was the saving grace for the family barely able to stay on their toes, for the twins raised their younger brother without someone to go to with their own emotional needs.

Techno knows those four years without his mother, without Phil's support or attention, are what molded him into his untrusting, spiteful self. Even though he has a wonderful relationship with Phil now, Techno knows that his father hates himself for not being able to be present in his children's lives while trying to keep them afloat so desperately in California. Things have changed heavily, but he isn't even the caretaker of his own kids anymore. Housemother and Housefather are.

While time heals all wounds, some can never take on a normal shape or appearance again. That is the Blade family in a nutshell: a broken bone that incorrectly healed and will never have the opportunity of fully functioning again.

"I remember it a little bit," Wilbur says, derailing Techno's train of thought. "Not a whole lot."

And, while Techno knows that is one hell of a lie, he will never admit it aloud. Tommy nods, nuzzling up against Wilbur's side and holding onto techno's nearest hand. Techno clutches that warm appendage as he lies on his side to face them both. Wilbur is looking at him again, spilling every ounce of truth that their mouths never could.

Yes, this night is a cold one, and Techno can't quite feel his bones anymore, but at least his exterior has regained warmth and comfort. If it weren't for Techno's brother's, he is heavily unsure of how he would have survived till dawn. They've been all each other has many times before, and right now, they are again. Techno's mind is only reassured of this when Wilbur's hand slips into his free palm and holds him tight.

No matter how bad life gets, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy will always be together.

~

"Ew, what fuckin' flavor is this? Tastes like Grandma's ashes!" Schlatt gags, contorting his face in horror and disgust.

Sapnap steals his slushy back. "It's grape, you slime ball!"

"Grape flavored ass crack, maybe.."

Techno rolls his eyes as the two stare each other down with mutual hate. Every time that Schlatt and Sapnap come within three meters of each other, they end up fighting and insulting the other relentlessly until someone steps in. Usually, Techno finds himself rather entertained, but their brawling today irks him deep within his core. It reminds him too much of his relationship with Dream before things became increasingly complicated.

"You know, the sound of your stupid fucking voice makes me wanna puke?" Sapnap retaliates, taking a hefty drink of the slushy.

Schlatt crinkles his eyes as he smiles. He grabs the Styrofoam cup and squeezes it as hard as he can so that the dark purple liquid splashes into Sapnap's face. George covers his mouth lightly as Sapnap throws his cup onto the ground and pushes Schlatt into the nearest row of lockers.

"Hey, hey!" Techno shouts, grabbing at Sapnap's hoodie to pull him back. "Gogy, help him clean up in the bathroom. Schlatt, literally go anywhere else! Sapnap's made a point for the first time in his entire life about your voice."

"Ugh, whatever. Beats the smell of Sapnap's dusty brain trying to think of an insult. I'll go find Fundy! He actually appreciates my presence."

The youngest of the group wipes the ice from his face and shouts, "Makes one person in this school!"

"Come on, Sap. Alex is waiting for us, anyways.." George directs, tugging him in the opposite direction of Schlatt.

Techno, left alone in the school hallway, pushes a strand of loose hair behind his ear as he glances off toward the one person that he's actually dying to see. Dream wasn't at dinner last night, breakfast this morning, or in first period English class. He hasn't spoken to Dream since they were supposed to stay at Phil's place. Ditching him without a word greatly confused and oddly enough, _hurt_ him. So, when Techno spots the red door of his locker popped open and jeaned legs peeking out from underneath, he makes his way over immediately.

The pinkette takes a deep breath and attempts to uphold himself, as he always does, but Techno still finds himself slouching. Techno eases his way over to Dream, fingers tangling in the choppy ends of his ponytail. The yellow cardigan hanging from his shoulders flows around his knees with every step he takes closer to Dream, anticipating finally getting to ask him about yesterday. His lack of sleep allotted Techno way too much time to contemplate just why Dream left him.

"Hey, stranger. Where've you been?" Techno hesitantly asks, waiting behind the door. "I hope nothing too serious happened. Can we talk about it? If you're hungry-"

Techno is cut off by Dream abruptly slamming his locker and staring at Techno with annoyed eyes and pursed lips. Before Techno can think of something to say, he notices the terribly green hoodie hugged close to Dream's body, it's shade of lime sickening to the eyes and painful to the soul. He can barely stop himself from gasping as Techno fully grasps that Dream is wearing the hoodie that Techno not only _stole_ from him, but also _lost._

"Shocked? Yeah, thought so. Get out of my way, Techno," demands Dream.

"Where did you get that..?"

Dream sneers. "Does it matter? I know everything, Techno! I know you played me for a fucking fool! I can't.. can't believe I actually thought for a single second that you cared about me. All that bullshit you spewed about wanting me in your life? That was the single greatest trick of your bastard career, Techno Blade."

"What? Dream, I do care! I know I stole your hoodie, but that was before.. before I realized how wrong I was. At least, let me explain."

"Absolutely not." Dream attempts to walk right past him, but Techno follows in quick pursuit, grabbing onto the sleeve of the stolen hoodie. "Get off me! I don't want you to touch me ever again!"

Techno is wildly taken aback at his tone of voice. He lets go and takes a few hesitant steps away as keen ears in the hallway perk up, not focused enough on afterschool conversation to mind their own businesses. Techno could easily say something dastardly and ruin every bit of pride Dream may or may not have flowing through his warped veins, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want Dream to feel like he's been faking every ounce of attention and heart Techno has given him lately.

"Dream, please.. I still want to help you get emancipated.. I still want to be in your life.."

The blonde balls his hands into fists and shakes them at Techno. "No, you don't! You're a guttural, deceitful hag! You know, Techno, I took care of your pitiful ass when you stumbled into my room drunk out of your mind. I slept on the cold, hard floor for you. I brushed it off when you told me you hate me. Well, guess what? I hate you too, Techno Blade. I hate you even more."

This time when Dream begins to stomp away, Techno doesn't follow him. No, he stays absolutely still as his nervous system absorbs what Dream has just spat at him. The mutterings in the hall turn to whispered laughs and stares of secondhand embarrassment. Techno, unable to take the feeling of silent persecution, begins racing his way out of the high school, slipping in and out of groups of kids gathered on the lawn for afternoon banter. He passes the track, where the runners are already stretching in their crisp uniforms. His path even takes him past Fundy and Schlatt, who sit together while holding hands on a bench lining the walkway to the boarding houses.

Techno speeds right into Boarding House 7, not bothering to close the main door as he takes off up the staircase and into his bedroom. Almost as if a cosmic force dwelling within his body predicted, there, in the center of the flooring, lies Dream's copy of _Lord of the Flies,_ spine torn in half and pages scattered across the floor in clumps. Techno holds back a scream as his shaky fingers pick up part of the damaged cover. Over Dream's mother's handwritten message is something new and far more haunting.

_You don't rule anymore because you belong to me now, bitch._

~

**Ranboo's POV**

High school is supposed to be about discovering one's self, trying decently hard to get good grades, and planning for the near future. When the strange Mark Ender found himself enrolled in a boarding school across the United States, in an unfamiliar place with nobody that knew him, he decided to change himself up a bit. Born with facial vitiligo and heterochromia iridium, Mark was always stared at and a favorite subject of tormentors. Not to mention, he's always been awkwardly tall and skittish. Cementing himself as a weirdo just seemed to make sense.

Mark decided to call himself Ranboo because it sounded just as odd as he felt. To top off his already _confusing_ appearance, Ranboo dyed his hair black and white, straight down the middle. He most often wears a suit with a colorful tie, and while he stands out more than ever, Ranboo doesn't mind as much anymore because he almost fits in with the boys he lives with. He's rather grateful to have friends.

Or, at least the ones that _are_ his friends.

"I said, go fish! Are you listening? Ranboo? Boo?!" Tubbo asks, waving in his face.

Tommy gives Tubbo a confused look. "He's had a stroke and died. We have to bury him before Fundy finds out!"

"What? Oh, sorry.." Ranboo picks a card up from on top of the deck. "I was thinking."

"That's never good.." mutters Tommy.

Tubbo glares at Tommy before placing a small hand on Ranboo's shoulder. "What's on your mind, big man? You've been spacing out for the whole game.."

"Just something that happened yesterday; it's nothing, really. Can we play a different game?"

The blonde tosses his cards directly at Ranboo and shouts, "You ruin everything! I'm gonna go find Wilby because he's so much more fun than you."

"Tommy!" Tubbo scolds, as he heads for the door.

As soon as Tommy's hand grips the knob, the door swings open. Tommy shrieks as he tumbles to the floor and gets stepped on by Fundy's heeled boots. The furry's face has gone stark white as his eyes land on Ranboo.

"Come quick! Something terrible has happened!" Fundy shouts, motioning all three boys to follow him.

They share a concerned glance before the three youngest kids in the house scurry out of Tommy and Tubbo's room and follow Fundy's fox tail as he runs down the hallway. Fundy stops in front of his and Ranboo's room while staring at his best friend with a pained look in his overdrawn eyes. That's when it hits Ranboo that this _something terrible_ pertains to him. After his terrible exchange with Karl yesterday, his heart cringes upon opening the door.

"No!" cries Ranboo, the horror coming to life right in front of him. "My memory book! It's everywhere!"

On the floor of their bedroom is the littered remains of Ranboo's latest journal that was almost completely full, detailing every little experience he's had over the course of his sophomore year at Snowchester High. The pages are covered in foreign ink, displaying hateful messages that have been ripped out, crumpled up, and shredded to bits. Ranboo's livelihood exists within those handwritten memories, for he would not be able to remember anything without his book.

Now, it feels as if his mind is already beginning to slip away.

"Who could have done this?" asks Tubbo, crouching down to help Ranboo gather the salvageable pages.

"I don't know. I just got home from hanging out with Schlatt, and boom! I see this.. Ranboo, I'm so sorry. Who has a target on your back, huh?" Fundy questions.

Every door in the hall comes flying open at once because of the commotion, but Ranboo can't focus on anything but his book. His knees have given out, and tears are running down and staining his duel-shaded cheeks as he rummages through the rubble of his mind.

"Oh, sweet Ranboo. This is hopeless. Who did this? If not me, Tommy, or Fundy, then _who?"_

Fundy whimpers and takes Ranboo into his arms. "Do you think it might've been Techno? He's been acting weird lately.."

"Hey, don't you dare slander my brother!" Tommy plops himself onto Ranboo's bed with anger in his eyes. "Techno would never do something like this.. Well, except maybe to Dream."

"Woah, what's happened in here?" Karl inquires, as he enters with Alex and Wilbur.

Tubbo holds up a handful of scraps. "Someone's torn up Ranboo's memory book. Do any of you know anything about this?"

Ranboo tries to focus on Karl through his tear-filled eyes. The brunette is softly smirking as he and the other two boys at his side shake their heads. Fundy and Tubbo seem to believe them as they go back to collecting pages, but Ranboo doesn't look away from him. Wilbur and Alex help the others try to piece together the book as Karl nods at the crying boy to follow him into the hallway.

"You've got a little something on your face," says Karl, attempting to wipe away Ranboo's tears.

The younger flinches. "How c-could you do this to me? I thought w-we were friends!"

"Ranboo, everyone in this house is my friend, but Techno? He's my entire world, and I _finally_ have him all to myself. I just wanted to give you a little preview of what might happen if you tell a single soul about my conversation with Dream yesterday. We're good, right?"

"How can you say you love Techno if you only exist to sabotage him?" Ranboo sobs, hastily wiping at his burning eyes. "Why is it so terrible if.. if he cares about Dream? They need each other, Karl!"

Karl grabs onto Ranboo's tie and brings him down to eyelevel. "Listen to me, outcast. You don't belong here with the rest of us, but we tolerate you because you _aren't_ Dream. If Techno could see past his hate for that runner, you know what would happen, don't you? He'd turn on you! I'm doing you a favor, and you should be thanking me!"

"You're a bad person.."

"Maybe so, but keep it to yourself, and we won't have a problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go comfort my boyfriend. Once I find out who in this house is out to get him, they'll be next in my line of fire. Ciao, Ranboo. Say hi to your furry for me!" exclaims Karl, skipping off towards Techno and Wilbur's room.

As Karl leaves, Ranboo is left in the wake of his mental destruction. Sadly, it's not the first time this week he's been reduced to ruins, and it sure as hell won't be the last.

"I'm sorry, Techno.."

~

Techno's nimble hands pull the ponytail holder that's been gripping his hair in place all day out and sets it on the sink as he manually begins to untangle the day-to-day, hustle and bustle of knots. Once his silky waves have been tamed, he kicks his discarded clothes aside and turns on the shower. The hot water streaming down his arms as he tests the temperature calls out to the teen boy in need of some solemn alone time under the artificial rain, for today hasn't been one of the best for him. Nevertheless, Techno has kept persevering through the bullshit.

The pinkette steps into the tub after deciding on an appropriate level of hellfire to wash away his sins. As soon as he closes the shower curtain and immerses himself in the water, Techno can no longer continue to pretend that he's just as fine as ever, bantering with his friends, cracking jokes, living life as the king he always thought he was. No, it's all too much for him. His long hair soaks up the waves as the water runs down his face and neck, past his chest and stomach, and leaves Techno's body via his slender legs. The weight of the world's tears becomes far too crushing for his huge ego to carry.

With a sharp whine and one steadfast motion, Techno falls to the slippery floor and balls himself up under the stream. His knees tuck into his collarbones as his face takes shelter in said knees while the rest of Techno's body begins to shake and vibrate with the onslaught of cries. In all of his years on this planet, Techno has only ever felt like this one other time, and that's when his mother left. But even then, he wasn't as pained as he is now, for yes, Techno loved his mother, but they weren't very close, and he didn't know much about her to begin with.

The week Techno spent getting to know Dream, the two weeks that followed where they were forced apart, and the few days that came after his grim return gave Techno a much more sense of self and life, a look into the beauty and pain of the world. Techno Blade has never had such a strong and revitalizing attachment in the entirety of his seventeen years alive.

Techno's nails dig into his shins with each loud, agonizing sob that escapes his lungs. His sinuses and temples ache with such a horrific release of emotion. It's as though this big breakdown has been slowly growing and festering over the ages he's refused to let it out, and it's all thanks to Clay Dream and his ability to make Techno feel like the scum on the bottom of his shoe. Maybe, just maybe, Dream has a point.

Still, it doesn't make the knife in Techno's heart hurt any less.

A subtle knocking on the bathroom door forces Techno to swallow down his sobs and moans with every little muscle in his body. He clenches his teeth and internally begs himself to stop crying for even five seconds to squeak out a little message to whoever is in need of the bathroom at this hour. Techno's hands clench as hard as they can as he tries not to pop a blood vessel.

"I'm.. in.. the.. shower.."

The door slightly opens. "Techno? It's Ranboo. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Uh.. no.."

Ranboo closes the door behind him after he steps into the restroom. Techno's body quakes as he wills himself not to cry in front of the younger boy, for crying in front of one of his inferiors would be shameful to him and his entire bloodline.

"I won't ask if you're okay," Ranboo mutters, lowering himself to the ground. "But, I do hope you'll accept my offer of company. I may not be your first or even your seventh choice.. but I still don't want you to feel alone."

"Oh, uh.." Techno clamps a hand over his mouth as he attempts to gather himself. "I'm.. fine, actually. I'm.. I'm.."

Techno's attempts to keep himself collected fail as a dying seal sound pushes its way out of his throat, followed by high-pitched and uncontrollable sobs. He can't stop the violent waterworks now as they ravage his soul and steal his remaining bit of dignity.

"You don't have to lie," says Ranboo, as he sticks his hand through the curtain.

The older shakily grasps it. "Okay."

Ranboo helps Techno to his feet from the outside of the shower as Techno still cries and embarrassingly whimpers. Techno shuts off the water before stumbling out of the tub and into the towel Ranboo has retrieved for him. The younger has to hold him up as Techno sobs on the amble back to his room. Luckily, Wilbur is off spending time in one of the other boy's bedrooms.

"Sit here. I'll get you clothes. Do you care which?"

"N-no. Anything's f-fine," Techno stutters.

The taller shuffles through Techno's odd array of scandalous and fashionable outfits until he decides on a graphic tee with flannel pajama pants. Ranboo gathers Techno's hair up so that he can pull the shirt over his head without soaking it too terribly much. He guides each one of Techno's lanky yet oddly dense legs into the pant holes before he takes the discarded towel and begins drying those gumdrop pink waves. The affectionate touch of Ranboo delicately ridding the water from Techno's hair turns his sobs into gentle sniffles.

"Where's your brush?" asks Ranboo, as he surveys the room.

Techno points below the window. "On the vanity."

Ranboo fetches the porcelain brush with an elegantly carved handle, all in the shade of soft lavender and patterned with various butterflies and leaves. He begins humming a familiar, yet just out of mental reach, tune that calms Techno to his bones. The older closes his eyes and succumbs to the touch, reminding him of the most comforting parts of childhood when dear old Phil would pull the same move.

"Can I show you something, Ranboo?"

"Of course, Techno."

He motions back to the vanity and says, "Look underneath."

Ranboo's gaze pans to the floor as he makes out Dream's sacred copy of _Lord of the Flies,_ just as damaged and dead as his own memory book. He lets out a gasp as the brush falls from his fingers and shatters on floor. In a panic, Ranboo tries to gather the pieces of porcelain with his bare hands and ends up slicing open his finger. Techno immediately grabs his injured hand and pulls him away from the scene, eyes intense and face blotchy from his long cry.

"We're both being targeted. What if Dream is next?"

The younger sucks the blood from his finger before asking, "Why you do care so much? What changed?"

"I.. I don't know. All I know is that my relationship with him was once in a lifetime, and I've supremely fucked it up. I don't know who to trust anymore, Ranboo.. I just feel so.. so.."

"Broken?" Ranboo suggests.

Techno nods. "Dream called it before I ever could. He can see the real me, even when I can't. What am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know, Techno. I'm just as lost as you are."

The pinkette sighs as his face falls into his hands. "I've royally fucked over everything good in my life. What if I can't win him back?"

Ranboo looks to the floor. "Keep changing for the better, even if it means losing everything to gain something much more beautiful."

"What will I gain?" questions Techno, peeking out between his fingers.

"Your life."

Techno involuntarily sniffles again as he begins carefully collecting the broken shards of the one thing his mother left him with: her antique hairbrush. He's finally realizing that anything of value to one's heart can't survive long in this warzone. Techno doesn't know who is out to get him or Ranboo.. _or Dream.._ but he can no longer go on and pretend that these kids are his friends until he traps the rat.

The two boys lock eyes, and Techno finds himself wondering what's happening on the other side of that two-toned gaze. He hasn't a clue in the universe who would be targeting them out of all of the teens in the boarding house, for Ranboo has never hurt a soul, and Techno is supposed to be everybody's idol and supreme ruler.

Meanwhile, Ranboo has no idea how to tell Techno that their tormentor is _not_ the same person.

Downstairs, Dream thinks back to what it feels like to be wrapped in Techno's arms as watery blood pours out of his mouth in roaring waves, running down his face and soaking the lime green hoodie he never would have guessed was stolen by the boy that promised him his life.

Three boys, three minds of deep thought, three drastically different problems..

One goddamn world of repulsive _pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today has been a really rough day, but I still wanted to make sure the chapter got out in time. If my update schedule is skewed in the future, just know that I have a REALLY good reason, haha. I know this chapter wasn't the greatest or the most exciting, but I felt it was important to the plot development.
> 
> Follow my Twitter account, @ phantomsunsets, for updates, teasers, early chapter title drops, and hella fresh memes. :) Also, feel free to leave a comment! They're my favorite part of updating, and I read every single one!! <3


	11. Letting You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a restless world, uncertain times;  
> You said hope was getting hard to find.  
> But time rolls on, days go by.
> 
> What about the broken ones?  
> What about the lonely ones?
> 
> Oh, honey, I'm having trouble letting you go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11! So sorry about the delay; life is very hectic for me right now. Please enjoy! :)

It's a hazy morning, so early, in fact, that most kids in the boarding house are fast asleep. The red curtains are drawn, casting a warm glow around Karl and Alex's bedroom. Techno sighs as he squints at the bright laptop screen on his thighs that his eyes have been transfixed on for the past two hours. He ruffles a hand through his hair and leans back against the headboard to rest the strained muscles in his neck. If Karl weren't hugging onto his hips in slumber, Techno would stretch his legs out. He doesn't want to risk waking his boyfriend, though.

Techno pulls the sheets further up his bare chest while glancing across the room to Alex's bed. He's cuddling his bong, still dressed in yesterday's clothes with a beanie clutched against his head. Alex oftentimes falls asleep just like that after a long evening of toking up, something Techno has learned over the multitude of nights he's spent in Karl's bed.

Over the course of the night, Techno has taken to _finally_ starting his and Dream's English midterm project, which they were assigned about three and a half weeks ago. With only a week and a half left to get everything done, Techno doesn't have much of a choice but to do the whole thing on his own, for there is no chance in hell the two can be left alone in the same room together. In fact, Techno hasn't spoken to Dream since their heated interaction at school on Monday.

It's Saturday now.

Karl makes a soft whimpering sound as he unconsciously nuzzles Techno's bare thigh. Techno places a hand on the older's messy curls to sooth him in his slumber as he wracks his brain for more possible words to juice out of his dehydrated brain. He should have begun this over the two weeks Dream was in the hospital, but Techno couldn't concentrate on a single thing without the blonde by his side. This week has gone very similarly, especially now that he's constantly on edge around his supposed _friends._ Techno even has trouble trusting his own brothers and boyfriend, though he knows they would never hurt him. Right?

Techno focuses back in on the essay he's only written two pages of with subpar diction and a heavy lack of concision. For someone that plans on pursuing an English major, Techno hasn't felt like utilizing his strong grasp on his native language for the biggest project in junior year thus far. The presentation of thirty blank slides stares back at him on next open tab, and there are only about twelve words written for the oral speech. Techno physically cannot write a single word more for their _Lord of the Flies_ project.

"Oh, kill me.." he mutters, opening a new tab. "Maybe some Instagram?"

The pinkette logs onto Instagram and begins scrolling through his feed. He stops upon seeing a post from Tubbo, a lovely picture of the boy in his favorite green button-up. Tubbo is smiling with his mouth wide open as Tommy makes a face of mild disgust and terror in the background. A fat bumblebee is perched on his nose, and he looks so greatly pleased. Techno peers down at the caption to see what the hell this is all about.

_This rad man lives outside my window! His name's Beenardo. :) photo by: RanbooLikesFlowers_

"Well, that's enough Instagram for the month.."

Techno closes out of the social media app and finds himself glaring at the Google search bar. His fingertips sizzle as they seem to take over his body, typing in something that surprises even himself: "bone marrow transplant". He quickly glances to Karl to make sure he's still sound asleep before skimming over the links and pictures presented before him. At base level, the operation appears horrifying, but to be honest, Techno isn't quite sure what it entails. Dr. Astor made it seem even more lethal than it sounds.

"A bone marrow transplant is an operation that involves extracting the stem cells from a donor and intravenously infusing them into a patient, usually one with a blood disease or blood cancer. The procedure is extremely risky, for only about sixty percent of patients end up surviving past the first year. It is common for the patient's body to reject the new stem cells, causing a multitude of problems including graft versus host disease, infection, internal bleeding, pneumonitis, hepatic veno-occulusive disease, organ failure, infertility, lymphoma, stroke, or death," Techno whispers, aloud.

His head falls into his hands, for going through with this operation could lead to Dream's rather quick death, but doing nothing at all will eventually kill him as well. And, of course, chemotherapy will not cure him, but it _could_ ensure around twenty more years.. maybe more. Techno has no idea how Dream managed to keep his illness a secret from him and the other kids for so long, for it surely has weighed down on him dealing with the unimaginable pain and looming threat of dying. Techno could never be that brave.

Techno continues scanning over the article until a word sticks out to him that he knows well at this point and fears just as much. "Chemotherapy" in big, bold letters introduces a new, rather lengthy, section. His brown eyes run across the words until Techno's heart stops in his chest.

"A bone marrow transplant is proceeded with one to two weeks of intense conditioning in which high doses of chemotherapy are given to the patient to kill off all of the tainted and healthy bone marrow in the afflicted person. Conditioning cannot be stopped once started.." Techno raises an eyebrow as the truth sinks in. "Wait.. Dr. Astor said chemo wasn't needed for a bone marrow transplant.."

The pinkette's anger begins to boil inside of him at discovering such intense lies. Techno knows that normal chemotherapy for Dream's condition could last anywhere from six months to a year, but just one week is way different. That sole week, though, could make or break Dream, for once his bone marrow is depleted and immune system repressed, it cannot be fixed without taking the risk of the operation.

Techno hastily grasps for his cellphone on Karl's bedside table and looks up the name of the clinic that Dr. Astor works at. As soon as the line starts buzzing, he clenches his one free hand to keep his fingers from tapping and waking up Karl. Techno gnaws his bottom lip raw as the incessant ringing turns into radio silence.

"Office of the Boreal Clinic. This is Lena speaking; how may I help you?" asks a rather cheery, female tone.

"I need to speak to Dr. Astor."

Lena clears her throat. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but it's important," Techno implores, trying to keep his voice down.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to make an appointment to speak to the doctor. He is a very busy man-"

The teenager cuts her off with, "It's about Clay Dream."

She pauses, hinting that she knows who Dream is. "I will transfer your call immediately."

"Thank you."

There is another air of silence, but it doesn't last long. "Clay, is that you? Son, you missed your appointment this week and haven't returned any of my calls!"

"Hi, Dr. Astor. This is Dream's.. uh.. _associate.._ that you previously met, Dave. Perhaps you remember me?"

Dr. Astor sighs. "Unfortunately. Can I speak to Clay?"

"He's not here right now. I have a bone to pick with you, though."

"Son, I do not have the time to hear more of your whining about suing me and such. I have patients to see and work to be done!" the doctor exclaims, his impatience rising.

Techno takes a deep breath to keep from screaming before articulating, "Dr. Astor, if you care about Dream's health or him as a person in general, you will listen to what I have to say."

The older man groans again. "Make it quick."

"Thank you." Techno quickly makes sure that Karl and Alex are still asleep before pressing the phone closer to his ear. "You lied about a bone marrow transplant not needing chemotherapy. I demand to know _why_ you did and what this means for Dream's chances of getting such an operation."

"You're still on about that? Okay, yes, I did lie. I didn't think you'd take to researching something so trivial. I told you both the survival rate, and that was the end of the matter."

The pinkette glares at the wall in front of him. "But, it's not the end. He would only need chemo for a week if you went the bone marrow transplant route! His foster parents already signed off on chemotherapy, which means this is still on the table."

"And, that's exactly why I lied to you kids. I know what I'm doing, Dave, and when I say that a bone marrow transplant is too risky, I mean it. Why can't you just put this infantile desire to bed?" Dr. Astor asks, clearly exasperated.

"Because, Astor, I want him to have a normal, beautiful life in which he can live well into his nineties and spend the better half of forever running as fast and as far as he pleases. Why can't you understand that he is more than just a blood disorder? Dream is a real human being, and he could live a proper existence if you would just take a chance on him!"

More silence follows Techno's hushed pleas as the teen holds back tears. He has to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from making animalistic noises and alerting the sleeping boys of what he's getting up to. Karl's arms around him are so tightly hugging his hips, and Techno feels like he might suffocate in the grip of the one person he's supposed to love more than anyone else. A vein pops out of Techno's forward from strain as hot tears brim his waterlines.

"I hear you, Dave. I understand that you want to save him and all, but long-term chemotherapy in moderate doses is what's most safe for his condition. Clay has a chance at twenty more years if he just complies with my orders."

Techno swallows down the lump in his throat. "Twenty years of pain is incomparable to the possibility of normalcy and true adoration for life. I'm not giving up on this."

"I'll talk to Clay about it the next time he bothers to show up to an appointment, all right? I've got a patient waiting for me now. Are we done?"

"Yeah, we're done. Thanks, Dr. Astor," murmurs Techno, immediately hanging up the phone and feeling a weight lift from his chest at the notion that this operation could be in Dream's future.

Karl begins stirring as he yawns and flits his doe-like eyes open. He blinks a few times at Techno, smiling and reaching up to touch his boyfriend's piggy nose. Techno attempts to smile as he lowers himself down to the pillow.

"Who were you talking to?" Karl sleepily asks.

The younger cups Karl's soft cheek. "Just Phil. How was your sleep?"

"Always better when you're here with me. What about yours?"

"Perfect," says Techno, even though he hasn't slept a wink. "You wanna go get breakfast?"

Karl cuddles up against Techno and gently presses their mouths together in a simple, loving, morning kiss with a hint of last night's passion. "Not yet. Just lay here with me for a minute."

Techno allows those spindly arms to pull him closer as Karl's soft breathing echoes in his ear. Those familiar lips press against the space below Techno's earlobe, but Techno finds himself grimacing and aching to run straight to Dream's room with the news. Techno and Dream aren't friends, though. They never will be, not in this life and sure as hell not in the next.

"Okay, Karl. Anything for you.."

"I love you so much."

The pinkette wipes away his running tears, for they haven't been able to stop for days now. It seems as though every time someone shows him an ounce of delicateness, Techno can't help but think back to the few days he was lucky enough to hold Dream's hand and nestle against him in the safe grasp of slumber. Even though Karl is holding him close, Techno has never felt so alone in his entire life.

"I love you too, Karl."

~

"Do you think he's gonna show?"

"No way in hell! There's no chance of a comeback after he both _missed_ the first match and _postponed_ the second."

"Are you joking? If he doesn't come today, he'll never make it!"

"He's too chicken shit for nationals."

Techno's foot ceaselessly taps against the metal bleachers as his friends gossip about Dream, the one person he's convinced them all to hate without meaning. They snicker and pass insults back and forth about the blonde runner that Techno has taken so much from, including the first race that would have helped push either him or Illumina towards nationals. Because of Dream's forfeit, Illumina has the upper hand, and if Dream doesn't prove himself today, he's out of the running for good.

Illumina stands down on the track, stretching his arms and legs as he periodically waves to the crowd of students, locals, and recruiters. A handful of faces in the stands today could easily give Dream a scholarship for running. If only he would show up..

"Where is he?" whispers Ranboo, leaning into Techno's ear.

The pinkette shrugs. "I haven't spoken to him in days."

"What if he's given up?"

"He wouldn't do that," Techno insists.

The speakers surrounding the football field crackle to life as the radio pop ceases to vibrate the bleachers they're sitting on. "Good afternoon, Snowchester High! Welcome to today's track and field match, in which Kye Illumina and Clay Dream's second race to nationals has been postponed due to.. _complications._ Give it up for state champion, Kye Illumina!"

"Woo, go Illumina! You're so hot!" shouts Sapnap, drawing attention to the friend group.

Illumina waves up to where Sapnap sits, which makes him giggle and wink. Alex nudges him playfully as he lays his head on Sapnap's shoulder. The younger boy wraps an arm around Alex as he says something for only him to hear, clearly to the delight of Alex. Techno internally sighs at their seamless affection, so true and soul-sucking.

"Don't forget about our second state champion, Clay Dream!" the announcer proclaims, as the blonde walks into line of sight.

Techno's heart skips a beat upon seeing him. Dream tears off his lime green hoodie and hangs it on the fence to reveal his blue jersey with his last name printed across the back and number on the front. His short shorts are the same shade of ice, not even coming close to touching his knees. Those pasty arms are bare for once and toned as ever, causing Techno's eager eyes to latch onto them. From this far away, Techno can tell his expression is serious and filled with determination.

"I should be down there!" Fundy shouts.

"Shut the fuck up, Fundy!" scolds Techno, not particularly wanting to deal with his any of his friends' bullshit today.

Fundy glares at Techno. "What's it to you, Tech?"

"I can't hear anything over your squeaky voice."

Karl pulls Techno close and asks, "Are you okay? You seem agitated.."

"I'm fine."

"As most of you know, Dream and Illumina are two of the best speed runners in the state, maybe even the whole country. Only one student from Snowchester High will be representing Oregon in the track and field nationals, and today will definitely push one of these young men closer to their dreams. The starting event will be the mile dash, in which the boys must scale a total of sixteen hurdles for their times to count. Runners, take your places!"

Ranboo folds his arms across his chest in anticipation. "I'm scared, Techno."

"Shh, you're fine. Just watch.." Techno demands, narrowing his gaze in on Dream as he takes his stance. "He's been training for this for too long to lose to Kye Illumina now."

Dream and Illumina look at each other, knees bent and hands on the ground in front of them as the crowd goes wild to see them try to outshine one another. The scouters have moved to the standing position with their notepads ready, while local reporters snap pictures of the two champions. The referee's countdown is drowned out by the noise, but to be fair, Techno can't hear anything over his beating heart. The whistle's sharp cry manages to pierce through the stadium chatter, Techno's breath hitching as they both take off in a cloud of gravel dust.

Time moves in slow motion as the boarding house boys begin screaming and pumping their fists in the air. Ranboo looks to Techno with distress, but he can't stomach a reaction. Karl's painted fingernails are digging into his wrist as he joins in on the chanting. The feral instincts of every last person in the crowd kick in as Illumina and Dream's arms and legs pump inhumanly fast. They're neck and neck as they cross halfway around the track in a breath.

"Kick his ass, Illumina!" Karl shrieks.

"Kill the orphan!" demands Tommy, standing on the bench.

Tubbo laughs and mimics his position. "Kill the orphan! Kill the orphan!"

They manage to pull Alex into their circle, all chanting, "Kill the orphan!" like a group of rabid animals.

"Kill the orphan!" Bad and Skeppy shout.

"Kill the orphan!" Wilbur hollers.

"Kill the orphan!" Sapnap and George say, together.

"Kill the orphan!" howls Fundy.

"Kill the orphan!" bellows Schlatt.

"Kill the orphan!" the entire crowd cries, hungrily wishing death on the innocent Clay Dream.

Techno's quivering fingers reach out into the air as if to shield Dream from the hate as he and Illumina begin their second lap, no more than one minute after they've started racing. Neither boy seems to have a one-up until Illumina puts his head down and begins powering in front of Dream. Techno's friends cheer maniacally at the sudden overtake as the pinkette himself goes stark white. Ranboo's hand is clamped over his mouth, unable to move or speak as his two-toned eyes follow Dream to the third lap.

Just two minutes in, and there are only two laps to go. Illumina's gap between himself and Dream begins to grow as he propels himself forward again. Techno can tell he's smiling right now, for he's the one killing the orphan that Techno painted a target on the day he dared to move into Boarding House 7. Their long legs scale each hurdle with such ease, bodies shooting straight up into the air and hitting the track like meteors as they run. Dream closes the gap between them, much to the disdain of Illumina.

"Kill the orphan! Kill the orphan! Kill the Orphan! Kill the Orphan!"

Dream narrowly pulls ahead of Illumina as they finish off their third lap in three minutes. The fans go crazy over this sudden exchange of power, but Dream is kicking it into high gear. Illumina is clearly rattled over this as he seems to push himself as hard as he can. Still, Dream just keeps running faster and farther until he is ten feet ahead of Illumina. Techno gasps as he passes each hurdle with ease, almost as if he was made to be right here and now. Illumina tries to catch Dream, but it's no use.

That blonde ball of fire is a blur on the horizon.

Time stands still as Techno clutches his chest. Ranboo holds onto Techno's hand, maybe out of terror, maybe out of happiness. Illumina doesn't stand a chance now as Dream rides out his wave of adrenaline, jumping the last hurdle and running past the timer that stops as soon as he crosses its path. Instead of stopping to bask in the glory of his win, he takes a sharp right turn and begins heading away from the track. Everyone's too busy celebrating or having a breakdown over Illumina's loss to notice Dream as he takes off, but Techno does.

"Dream.." Techno whispers, to himself.

Techno connects eyes with Ranboo before nodding to him and taking off. He weaves through the tumultuous crowd, not caring who he has to shove to get to Dream. Techno's braid catches on every person he squeezes past, wincing in pain as he keeps running. Stumbling down the metallic walkway, Techno glances around to find where the blonde went. There he stands, just beyond the fence, hunched over with his hands on his knees as he heaves his guts into the grass.

"Fuck!" he gasps, between hurls.

"Oh, Dream.." Techno inches slightly closer, taking cover behind the fence. "If only I could tell you what Dr. Astor told me.."

Dream wipes his mouth on his arm as he collapses to the ground and shoves his inhaler between those glistening lips. He's covered in sweat, cheeks red and patchy. Techno watches as he breathes in his precious medication, transporting him back to the time Techno threw that very life-saver into a trashcan. Dream has every right to hate Techno for all the shit he's put him through, but Techno could never imagine hating Dream ever again.

Once Dream finishes catching his breath, he begins slowly ambling back towards the field. Techno ducks low to the ground to hide from his view, though he just wants to jump out and comfort Dream. Ranboo peeks at him from the bottom of the bleachers, a warped frown on his unique face. As soon as Dream is out of view, Techno creeps over to the place he just profusely puked, and he can't help but yelp.

The normally green grass is now painted bright red.

~

**Dream's POV**

The sun has never been brighter than it is right now. His tender skin, littered with scrapes and bruises, is a clear indicator of the childhood he lives. The blonde locks falling around his eyes are tangled and messy from a full day of play. The woman he loves most in this world looks down at him with a red-lipped smile on her young face.

"Clay, it's time to come inside! You need to take your medicine," his mother calls, from the stoop of their home.

He bats his long eyelashes, framing the roundest of green orbs. "Okay, Mommy. Can we go to the beach again soon?"

"Oh, little Clay. The doctor said you can't go swimming with that new device of yours.."

"I promise I'll only get my toes wet!" Clay promises, pawing at the tube extending from his chest underneath his shirt. "All the other boys in my class are going tomorrow."

His mother gently smiles while picking him up. "Maybe. We'll talk to Daddy when he gets home, okay? I love you so much."

Clay nuzzles her cheek. "I love you too, Mommy.

"I know, honey. We're going to try something new tonight, all right? I'm letting you give yourself the medicine. You know, I won't always be around to help you with it."

The tiny child nods and says, "I know. You'll stay for awhile, though, won't you?"

"Of course, my love. I'm here for as long as God will let me stay."

Dream shoots up in his bed, heart racing as he struggles to catch his breath. His hair and face are damp with sweat, not unnatural for him ever since the nightmares began. Seeing his mother in his dreams should be something beautiful and reminiscent, but it just reminds Dream of when life was not necessarily _easy,_ but rather, _easier._ She always supported and comforted him during the roughest moments of dealing with his disease.

The blonde fumbles for the lamp next to his bed, only to notice he's slept well past dinner when his eyes catch on the clock. He can't recall what time he fell asleep, but today's race against Illumina beat him within an inch of his life. Dream pushed himself harder than he has in awhile, and it almost costed him _everything._ Luckily, he won and was able to talk with scouters, pose for pictures, and answer various questions that reporters and fans had for him.

After he threw up, that is.

With each day that passes, Dream's sickle cell anemia kills him just a little bit more. He feels constantly weak, sleepy, yet unable to sleep at convenient times, and, not to mention, the blood that's supposed to flow through his veins and keep him alive keeps spewing from his throat. Dream is so close to nationals, yet so far. Time may just be the death of him.

Dream pulls himself from his bed and changes into a shirt that isn't soaked in sweat. He ruffles his bangs while stepping into the hallway, lips cracked and mouth dry from his overly long nap. The house radiates with laughter and distant conversation. In fact, Dream can even see the common room television from his place in the hall. Techno and Karl are cuddled up on the sofa, watching some sort of action movie at full volume. Dream rolls his eyes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen, for the last thing he wants to see is _that._

His pupils dilate as soon as he spots the sink. Dream grabs a clean glass from the strainer and fills it with lukewarm water, chugging it as quickly as he can as it spills down his chin. He lets out a long moan as soon as the cup is empty, wiping his lips and leaning against the counter to support himself. Dream's gaze lands on the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard, and there in the garden stands a figure staring at the sky above. How full the moon is tonight.

"Who's that?" Dream murmurs, meandering towards the door. "Oh.."

Ranboo leans over to grasp something on the ground, but Dream can't tell what it is. Unable to calm his curiosity, Dream steps out on the patio and delicately waves at him. The younger half-smiles, presenting a purple flower to Dream.

"Do you want one?" he kindly asks.

Dream nods, accepting the gift. "Thanks, Ranboo. Why aren't you hanging out with any of the boys?"

The shy teen shrugs. "I just wanted to be alone. Congratulations on your win today."

"I appreciate that. You know, you're the only person that's actually said that to me." Dream laughs and sits down next to Ranboo's flower patch. "You mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Dream. What's on your mind?"

The blonde looks at the glimmering moon overhead and pictures the Florida sun that he misses so much. It seems as though the clouds only part in Oregon during the night. Being this far from home disconnects Dream even further from his parents, and all he wants is to visit Florida again before he's forced to have chemotherapy. It's just not likely, though.

"If I'm being honest, Techno. This week has been.. difficult.. without him. Is that crazy of me to say? After all he's done to me?" Dream questions.

Ranboo shakes his head, joining Dream on the ground with a bouquet of flowers in his large hands. "No, Dream. I think Techno cares about you."

"What? He played me, Ranboo."

"Gosh.." Ranboo shifts towards Dream with a queasy look on his face. "There are some not so good people in this house.. And, I'm not talking about Techno.."

Dream raises an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"

"I think.. I think you should forgive Techno."

The older's face falls into his hands as he says, "I wish I could. He doesn't seem to be missing me, though."

"I've seen a lot this week, Dream. Just think about it, okay? Everyone deserves a sense of community right about now.." Ranboo implies, sniffing one of the pretty blossoms.

"Only if you think about something too."

Ranboo turns his attention back to Dream. "What's that?"

Dream leans back to lie down on the chilled ground, placing the delicate flower on his chest and breathing in a lungful of night air. Ranboo soon joins him at his side, legs extending well past Dream's own. They look at each other with soft uncertainty, eyes reflecting off of the full moon and shining like precious gemstones. Companionship is such a gentle gift.

"I think you should finally tell Techno that you are the one who broke Delilah."

Silence.

Sorrow.

If only this cosmic paradise could last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you expect that? Oh, the plot twist! Leave me a comment if you want because they all brighten my day! Plus, I adore reading theories and reviews.
> 
> Check out my Carrd > djcolorado.carrd.co < for all of my links and information, or just head straight to my Twitter > @ phantomsunsets < and click on the link in my bio. Give me a follow while you're there. ;) I post updates, fanart, teasers, and hella fresh memes over there, so don't miss out! See you all soon~


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